


Facing the Music

by Nightfox



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-07-07
Updated: 2011-10-13
Packaged: 2017-10-21 02:56:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/220111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightfox/pseuds/Nightfox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to "Uther's Morning After". Uther has to face up to Gaius & Arthur about Merlin's new position as his own very personal servant. Arthur doesn't take the news well & winds up facing some uncomfortable truths about his own feelings & actions.</p><p>(A/N: This fic is on temporary hiatus, it has not been abadoned! Look for updates this coming Winter.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Explanations

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Keep Your Friends Close](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/3750) by Winterstorrm. 



> Both this story and it's prequel were inspired by winterstorrm's brilliant "Keep your friends close" My sick little brain just had to add more to the story!
> 
> Both stories were approved by winterstorrm who not only gave permission for the project but enthusiastically supported me in writing it. My most sincere thanks go to her.

"Father, what have you done? Where's Merlin?"

Uther looked up from his mid-day meal and carefully kept his features blank and smooth. He was mildly surprised it had taken Arthur this long to seek him out. He'd already had a most uncomfortable conversation with Gaius about Merlin's changed "house-hold position". Officially he was taking Merlin on as a second manservant under the pretext that his current manservant was (thankfully) aging too much to fulfill all his duties and needed the assistance.

Gaius had raised an eyebrow and inquired if that was why Merlin hadn't returned from delivering the King's "draught" the night before. Uther had had the grace to look away, while nodding. He was unwilling, unable to let the boy go but that didn't mean he didn't feel guilty for taking him. Merlin was obviously more than willing to go along with his King's wishes but something inside him still felt as if he was taking advantage of the boy.

"Well, I won't say I won't miss having him here Sire but your needs must always come first. Just please," the old man paused here, waiting until Uther met his eyes. "Please be careful with him, he is as dear to me as a son." Gaius didn't voice it but his eyes didn't pretend to know anything other than the truth of why Uther was taking Merlin as his "servant".

Uther managed to keep eye contact with Gaius as he said, "I will, I swear it. He'll come to no harm under my protection." At this promise, Gaius nodded his head and got to his feet. Moving surprisingly fast for a man of his age, he rummaged through several cabinets and placed several jars, vials and bottles into a small basket. He turned back to his King and pushed it into his hands.

"He's young, you'll need these. There are labels on each one for their use."

As Uther turned to leave, Gaius called out in a voice meant to sound teasing but still rang sadly, "Sire? Please don't work him too hard."

Uther had actually felt a blush rising to his cheeks as he swiftly turned away and swept out the door.

Now he surveyed his son ranting in high dungeon. "Merlin is completely useless as a manservant, what the hell are you thinking? You gave him to me, don't you remember? If this is some kind of punishment, at least tell me what I've done and how long you intend this punishment to last."

Uther marveled at how petulant and childish Arthur sounded. This, Camelot's finest warrior, champion of every tournament since the age of 16,was leader of the Knight's of Camelot and he sounded like a 5 year old screaming for his favorite toy.

Since he was acting like a child, Uther decided to handle him as one.

"You seem to have forgotten a few lessons you were taught many years ago, son. I'll refresh your memory so you might start behaving like an adult again, instead of a spoiled child."

Arthur glared hard at the King but held his tongue for the moment.

"Number one, I am the King. Anything you receive in my lifetime comes from my hand. As I can give, I can also take away. Number two, treat your possessions well and you will receive more of them. Treat them carelessly and they will be taken away. Number three, you are my son and as such, even were I not the King, you will obey me. You may be of age but I am the King and my will is law. You will not question my decisions, you will simply carry them out. Is that clear? Frankly from the way you complain about the boy, I would have thought you'd be relieved to be rid of him. Something about him must irritate you for I happen to know you assign him three times the duties of any normal manservant. It seemed to me you had it in for the boy. We do have stable hands to care for the horses, Trainers for the dogs and Falconers to tend to the hawks."

Lips thinned to almost nothing, Arthur stood ramrod straight and spoke.

"I am your son, I have done everything you ever asked me to. I admit I am not perfect and I have failed you on several occasions. For those failures I have accepted reprimand and punishment without complaint. But this makes no sense to me, Father. Why _Merlin_? Surely there are other servants, more capable servants who could assist Willhem in his duties. You'll be clapping Merlin in the stocks every other day for spilling trays and dropping your favorite sword and for God's sake, his mouth alone will have you tossing him in the dungeon at least weekly!"

Uther's lips twitched a little at the mention of Merlin's mouth but once again Arthur was oblivious to the obvious and felt his father was laughing at him.

"Willhem is fond of the boy and made the request," Uther lied smoothly. "As he has served me loyally since my childhood I felt he deserved a reward. You on the other hand, have mistreated your gift. Honestly, I thought I was rewarding that boy by making him your manservant." He gave a snort at that.

Arthur suddenly looked distressed. "I haven't mistreated him, Father. I've been tolerant of his familiarity, something I don't think you'll find so amusing. And yes, I tease him and I complain but I haven't meant it."

"I've seen you use the boy as pells for the amusement of the Knights."

"I was just trying to toughen him up, he acts like such a girl sometimes!"

"Arthur, he isn't suited to martial training. He'll be much better off learning how to be a proper manservant from Willhem's capable tutoring. Speaking of which, I think you need some tutoring yourself on what duties are appropriate to a personal manservant. Therefore I shall be sending you one with experience. If you attempt to have him muck out your horse's stalls or follow you on hunting trips, he'll remind you that it's not his job."

Arthur's jaw dropped a bit at that news but he promptly snapped it shut when his father turned back to his meal and waved an imperious hand toward the door indicating that this audience was over. He stormed out of the room. If Uther wouldn't tell him why he was taking Merlin away, then by God, Merlin would!

After he'd gone, Uther's shoulders slumped a bit and he allowed himself the small luxury of cradling his forehead in his hands. He felt guilty for making Arthur feel like it was his fault for the King's actions but Uther just couldn't look his son in the eye and tell him the truth. That he'd taken Merlin away because he needed to have access to him and his body 24 hours a day. He could no longer deny his need for his lover but he still felt ashamed of that need and the hurt that his selfishness was causing his beloved son and his closest friend.

Uther rose from the table, leaving his food half-eaten and returned to his chambers, his need for Merlin rising like a tide. He needed him now! When Uther threw open the door to his room he found Merlin with Willhem, taking inventory of the King's wardrobe.

"Willhem, out, please." The older manservant bowed his head and left without a sound, pausing just outside the doors to drop a quiet word to the guards stationed there. "His Highness is not to be disturbed, by anyone, for anything."

________________________________________________________________________________

All comments are welcome so please review! You have no idea how much the smallest comment can make my day! Constructive criticism is welcome. Flames will just be used to warm my breakfast.


	2. Arthur's Eyes Open

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Both this story and it's prequel were inspired by WinterStorrm's "Keep your friends close"
> 
> My sick little brain just had to add more to the story!

Arthur didn't see Merlin for over a week after his interview with his father. He'd gone to Merlin's room that night to get the truth from him only to find his room completely empty. The bed was stripped, the cupboards empty, not so much as a stray neckerchief left behind.

He'd showed up at Gaius's rooms the following morning, hoping to find Merlin at least helping the old physician but Gaius was alone. Gaius looked at him sadly when he asked if he knew why Uther had taken Merlin away but he simply repeated the same story his father had given him. Willhem was old and needed the help. Arthur could see in Gaius's eyes that he was holding something back but Merlin's guardian swore that was all Uther had given him as an explanation.

Arthur then turned to Morganna for help. But she was just as in the dark as Arthur. There was a somewhat sickly look of suspicion in her eyes though and he begged her to share her thoughts with him. Naturally, she refused but she did ask him a question that seemed to have no bearing on the subject that Arthur could work out.''

"Do you know how old Merlin is, Arthur? His exact age?"

Brow wrinkling at the seeming randomness of the question, Arthur replied, "No, not really. He's younger than me. Maybe around Gwen's age? What's that got to do with anything?"

"I'm not really sure but I really hope that none of the explanations I can think of are right. Maybe he is just trying to teach you a lesson. You do treat Merlin terribly, you know you do. And Willhem is getting quite old. You never know, he might have snatched Merlin up after seeing that he was up to all the challenges you've set him."

"Morganna, that still doesn't make sense. He's thrown Merlin in the stocks for talking out of turn. You know how that drives him insane and I don't think Merlin is up for the level of boot licking required to be Father's manservant."

Morganna had two suspicions as to why Uther had taken Merlin from Arthur and neither was good in her opinion. She felt that either he'd seen the growing closeness between Merlin and Arthur and was determined to nip it in the bud. Or...the thought rather turned her stomach...or he'd taken Merlin literally, taken him for his lover. Morganna may have been the only person in the entire court to notice the furtive glances the King sent toward the laughing blue-eyed boy or the way Uther went slightly rigid whenever Merlin was close. She had a strong feeling that her second suspicion was the correct one.

Unlike Arthur, Morganna wasn't blind to the fact that Merlin was a very attractive lad, one who seemed to draw as much male attention as he did female admiration. Her own maid Gwen definitely had feelings for the boy. Morganna adored his sweet, generous nature and thought he was cute but he just seemed so young to her, more like a little brother than a potential lover.

Also unlike Arthur, Morganna listened to servant gossip. She knew that no one had seen Merlin since the last day of the hiccup crisis. Willhem had held his position as the King's manservant for so long in good part because he was extremely tight-lipped when it came to the King's personal life. No one could get a thing out of him except that he was training young Merlin in the duties of his new position and that he was doing quite well in these lessons.

Servant gossip was rampant and most of it seemed to come to the same conclusion as Morganna. Apparently one of the Guards perpetually on duty outside the Royal suite had let slip that Merlin had arrived fairly late on that last evening with a delivery from Gaius. That same guard had been on duty until dawn the following morning and mentioned that Merlin had never left those rooms while he was standing guard. One of the chamber maids had been sent to Merlin's room early the next morning with orders to bring every single one of his belongings to the Royal suite. Willhem had met her at the door and taken charge of the small pile of books and clothes and then carefully shut the door in her face.

The following day Willhem had been observed ordering several sets of clothing from one of Camelot's finer clothier's. Sir Kay's manservant had been the observer and he added to the gossip by confirming there was no way the measurements given for these garments could fit Willhem. Add the fact that everyone knew when the King needed outfitting, the Royal tailor attended him in his personal chambers in the castle and one could only draw the conclusion that Uther had to be purchasing the garments for the tall, slender blue-eyed boy he'd taken as his personal servant.

Morganna held all this knowledge in her heart and her head and shared none of it with Arthur. She did not want to be the one to break this particular news to him. It had been hard enough holding Gwen as she'd sobbed when she'd heard of it. She had no idea how Arthur would react to the almost certainty that his former manservant was now "serving" the King not just in his bedchamber but also in his bed.

All they could do now would be to watch and wait and see when Merlin would be allowed to leave the King's rooms, for it certainly seemed he was being held there at the King's command. Gwen and Morganna both agreed that he'd never have left Gaius alone all this while if he'd had a choice.

News spread like wildfire when Merlin finally emerged from Uther's chambers after almost another week had passed. The boy headed straight for Gaius's work rooms and an enormous volume of the castle's servants suddenly found pressing reasons to at least pass by the vicinity of those rooms, a few even feigned illness to gain entry within and hopefully get a glimpse of Merlin.

Once again, Arthur remained out of the loop as he'd refused to take on another manservant in Merlin's place. Therefore he only found out about Merlin's emergence from his fathers suite long after the boy had returned to it. Of course it was Morganna who delivered the news, after casually joining Arthur for dinner in his chambers.

"Did you manage to see Merlin this morning when he went to see Gaius?" she asked casually as she sipped a sweet wine Arthur kept on hand for her occasional visits. She rather enjoyed watching the Prince gasp, inhale the mouthful of ale that had just slipped past his lips and fall into a paroxysm of coughing so powerful that some of that ale came out his nose.

"I'll take that as a no." Morganna couldn't keep the smugness out of her voice this time. She watched in amusement as Arthur struggled to eject the ale from his lungs and nasal passages, all his pretense of indifference blown rather spectacularly.

"Did you see him?" Arthur wanted to bite his tongue off when he heard the sound of pathetic desperation in his own voice as he asked the question.

"Oh yes, he stopped by to see Gwen and I on his way back to Uther's. I imagine he may have stopped by your chambers too but I know you were out early pummeling your knights or something."

Arthur waited for her to elaborate but Morganna was enjoying his discomfort entirely too much to volunteer information. She made him ask for it.

"Did...did he seem all right? Is Father treating him well, do you think?"

Morganna watched the Prince's shoulders slump when she replied, "Oh yes! He seems positively blooming! You know, it's amazing how much better he looks in clothes that actually fit him? He always seemed so skinny, almost fragile looking. It turns out he's really well fit! It seems Uther didn't care for the peasant look Merlin had been sporting and finally outfitted him in clothing appropriate to his station."

She couldn't help that last dig. It had been a bit of a mystery to her and just about everyone why Arthur had always left Merlin looking like the yeoman farmer he no longer was. Gwen got many of her cast off dresses and even a few of her older formal gowns for state occasions. Merlin had alway stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the upper servants with his rough, home-spun clothes.

Had she blinked, she'd have missed the wince that flashed across Arthur's face. It had honestly never occurred to the Prince that part of Merlin's employment should have included better clothing. Prior to Merlin's service, he'd never managed to keep a manservant for more than a few weeks and they'd all seemed to come appropriately clothed upon arrival. He'd even scathingly commented on the quality of Merlin's clothes on several occasions, going so far as to ask him "Why do you wear those awful rags?"

He'd never realized that it was because all of those earlier servants had either been born into Royal service or had been experienced in their jobs prior to serving Arthur. Merlin had literally come to him straight off the farm. Merlin had never realized that as personal manservant to the Crown Prince, he had been awarded a very high position in the Royal Household and Arthur was too self-absorbed to inform him of it. Then again, prat that he was, he'd often assigned jobs to Merlin that perfectly suited those low-born rags of his. He'd known damn well that mucking his stables, walking his dogs and exercising his birds (along with cleaning their cages) weren't really the duties of a manservant. He'd just enjoyed tormenting Merlin with such menial tasks.

Morganna and Gwen had come to the conclusion that it was just one more method of humiliation Arthur liked to use on Merlin. Now seeing the obvious chagrin on the Prince's face she doubted that theory for the first time.

"You never even thought about it, did you?" She sighed, not for the first time disappointed with her almost-brother's disregard for anything not directly related to himself. "He's right, you really are a prat. I almost think you deserved to lose him, though I'm not so sure he deserved to be saddled with Uther." Or saddled by Uther she thought to herself.

"So, you think he's happier to be serving Father?"

"Honestly, no, I don't think he's happier but he doesn't seem unhappy either." She took some mercy on Arthur and added, "I really think he misses you though. He asked after you and seemed eager for the news."

"Do you think Father really intends to keep him permanently? You don't think this is some twisted way of teaching me a lesson or something do you?"

"I wish I knew, Arthur but I honestly don't. Merlin didn't discuss his duties much, he was much more eager to hear about how everyone else has been doing. You, Gwen, Gaius and I. The only thing he said was that both Willhem and Uther have been keeping him very busy."

"How the hell can they be keeping him busy when he never leaves Father's rooms?" Morganna watched carefully as the truth of the situation finally seemed to penetrate Arthur's famously thick skull. His eyes widened as his face drained of all color. He swallowed convulsively several times as if he was about to be ill. Then he dashed behind his bathing screen and Morganna heard the evidence of that look as he sicked up his supper rather loudly, presumably into a water bucket.

He returned, looking shaky, sweaty and pale. "Morganna, do you think...do you think he's...he's...", he swiped his mouth with the back of his hand, unable to verbalize the thought. At Morganna's tight-lipped nod, he exploded.

"That's sick! He's younger than I am! He's younger than you are! Oh God, what the fuck is he thinking? It's perversion! He's old enough to be Merlin's grandfather for God's sake!"

"He's also the King, Arthur," Morganna said in a soft, mournful tone. "He can do what he wants with whomever he wants and Merlin is such a beautiful boy. The King isn't the first to take a fancy to him. I just think Merlin's been oblivious to all the attention until now." A sad smile crossed her lovely face, "I know Merlin hasn't a clue just how many have taken a fancy to him since he arrived. He just doesn't think of himself that way. It's part of his charm."

The Prince sank into his chair, a truly stunned look on his face. He'd never thought of Merlin that way either, not until Morganna hit him over the head with the hammer of truth. Suddenly his mind was flooded with images of Merlin, his large dark blue eyes, his perfect alabaster skin, his raven black hair that couldn't seem to decide whether to be curly or straight, the slightly ridiculous ears that somehow just added to his appeal. Then there were those cheek bones, so high and prominent you could probably cut glass with them. Rosy pink, cupid bow lips that practically begged to be kissed were set just above a strong, stubborn chin and the masculine jaw that saved him from looking feminine.

How the hell had he missed all of that? He'd long since acknowledged that Merlin's smile could charm the birds from the trees but still somehow he'd blocked out the rest of him. Tall and lean, Arthur was always teasing him about being scrawny, clumsy and useless but deep down he'd known Merlin was quite strong or he'd never have been able to accomplish all the tasks both he and Gaius set for him every day. He also knew Merlin was far from useless, as he performed every task Arthur ever set him. True, it might take a few tries before he got it right but once learned he never forgot. It crossed his mind to wonder how Uther was dealing with Merlin's clumsiness. Did he find it as endearing as Arthur did?

He closed his eyes when he realized that he _had_ been aware of Merlin's attractions. He'd noted them the very first time he laid eyes on the bold lad who confronted him right out in the open with spectators all around. He remembered the picture that flashed before his mind's eye when he asked the lovely peasant if he knew how to walk on his _knees_. His pride challenged in that very first encounter, he'd ignored the electric shock that had shot through him at the first touch of Merlin's hand when a fast half-nelson had brought the boy up against him. The heat from the slender body bent against his own in forced submission had sent an unwelcome wave of want roaring through his senses. He suddenly remembered the moment with startling clarity, the sweet herbal fragrance of the younger boy's skin, the firmness of the rounded buttocks wriggling against his thigh, the fragility of the wrist clenched in his grip, the small grunt of protest wrung from full, pink lips. He'd been so shaken by the strength of the attraction that his mind had instantly sealed it away, deliberately ignored it in order to protect Arthur from such a powerful and instant connection. Now, he acknowledged it too late. Uther had him.

The images that flooded Arthur's mind had him running for the bucket again as he heaved up what little remained in his stomach after the last assault on it. When he finally returned to the table, Morganna was regarding him with a rare look of sympathy on her face.

"Oh God, Morganna, what do I do?"


	3. What Happened to Merlin?

The King woke Merlin early, like he had every morning since moving the boy into his rooms. Merlin didn't mind because he usually woke to either the King's mouth or stroking fingers on his cock. Sometimes he woke to the Kings slicked up fingers working him open but to his surprise, Uther usually preferred to bottom.

Another surprise was how much Uther liked to cuddle. He was extremely passionate, his hands never stopped roaming over his lover's buttery soft, alabaster skin and he never seemed to break mouth contact with some portion of Merlin before, during and after making love. He had licked, nibbled and sucked every centimeter of skin on the young sorcerer's body by their second day together. However, his favorite targets were always Merlin's mouth and cock, his neck coming in a close second. It had shocked the mage how tender, careful and considerate a lover Uther was. It was of course, a very pleasant shock.

What was less pleasant was Uther's possessiveness. He had virtually imprisoned Merlin for the last 2 weeks, saying he wanted him available 24 hours a day. The raven haired boy did have to admit that Uther was proving a damn near insatiable lover, which considering his age was yet another surprise. He would return to his rooms several times throughout his day and send Wilhem packing before fucking Merlin boneless, then he would immediately return to running his Kingdom. He was a relentlessly energetic lover, wringing orgasm after orgasm from his young paramour. He seemed to truly delight in making the boy cum, often pleasuring only Merlin and denying himself the same release until later in the day or night.

Now, far from sleepless, Uther slept deeply and contentedly every night with Merlin wrapped up in his arms. When they were together, the King kept some sort of physical contact at all times, as if he was afraid the boy would disappear if he didn't. It was almost as if he was reassuring himself that Merlin was real and not some figment of his fevered imaginings. So even when he wasn't focused on making his lover squirm, writhe and keen in pleasure, he still kept him close.

When working on the endless paperwork that seemed essential to keeping Camelot running (much to Merlin's embarrassment) he liked to have Merlin in his lap. Far from being a distraction, Uther found he got far more work done with his lover there. He'd often drop little kisses on Merlin's throat or the back of his neck as he read document after document. Since there wasn't anything else for the boy to do during these sessions, he was learning a great deal about the running of a Kingdom. Uther would let Merlin read each document with him, heads nestled side by side as the King explained what he was doing. It was really quite interesting even if he'd been unnerved when Uther had pulled him into his lap that first time and proceeded to both cuddle and teach the young sorcerer simultaneously.

When Uther wasn't around, Merlin worked with Wilhem and actually _did_ learn the proper ins and outs of being a good manservant. He taught the boy the best methods and little tricks needed to make his work so much easier. All these months with Arthur, he'd been left to flounder and try to figure things out for himself. No one had ever considered that the reason Merlin was "the worst manservant ever" was because he was completely ignorant of what the job entailed and how to accomplish it. Arthur would throw out demands and Merlin was left to work out how to meet them on his own.

He smiled whenever he recalled Wilhem's horror at some of the disgusting (and inappropriate) tasks Arthur had demanded of him. He'd thought the old man's face would twist inside out when he mentioned being required to muck out the Prince's stables and clean the cages of his hunting hawks. To Merlin's relief and gratitude, Wilhem was very kind and he learned very quickly under the elderly man's patient guidance. It was a pleasant change from Arthur's mocking insults and Gaius's impatient brilliance.

However, after 2 weeks of being stuck in the same 4 rooms of Uther's suite, he found himself going stir crazy. He missed his friends, he missed Gaius and he found he missed Arthur terribly. He missed the banter and the quiet moments of easy companionship that had developed between them. He missed being there to either irritate Arthur into action when needed or to talk him down when his impulsivity would have otherwise led him to say or do things he'd be sure to regret later. Not that Arthur always listened to him but he had been listening more and more as time had gone on. God help him, he even missed Arthur's snarly bad moods, having boots hurled at his head when he tried to wake the stubbornly sleepy Prince, the taunts and teasing, the capricious mood changes, the bursts of anger and more rarely, of affection. He just missed Arthur.

So he had entreated the King to let him at least have a morning free to leave the suite. To his everlasting gratitude, Wilhem had encouraged Uther to let the boy out at least for a few hours. So reluctantly, Uther said he could go after breakfast. Of course, before breakfast he'd swept his young lover back to bed and stripped him of every stitch of his new clothing, thoroughly ravaged his mouth with his own and taken his cock into his always eager mouth. Then he'd flipped their positions, grabbed the bottle of oil ever present on the bedside table and slicked up the sorcerer's straining length.

He leaned up, nipped a snow white earlobe and whispered breathlessly into Merlin's ear, "Fuck me, Merlin, fuck me hard and don't you dare stop until I tell you to." He bit down sharply on the boy's neck as he felt Merlin's long, hard thickness breach him, canting his hips up to meet the slender young man's every thrust. He pushed the mage's control to the breaking point that morning. Both of them groaned and moaned in strained pleasure as Uther urged his lover to piston his cock into him faster, harder, deeper and for longer than either had ever managed before. Sweat slick and gasping for breath between Uther's constant demands for his mouth and tongue, Merlin gave everything he had to pound his royal lover through the mattress before the King erupted all over his taut white belly and chest, royal cum running down his soft, sparse treasure trail and pooling around the base of his shaft as he complied with his lover's command not to stop until given permission. Merlin was aching for release, harder than ever and his balls were pulsing madly but he obediently fought down the need to cum.

Finally, Uther wrapped his legs around Merlin and pulled him in hard gasping, "Now! Do it now, fill me up, _now_!" With a shout of relief the sorcerer let himself explode deep inside the molten hot core of his lover's body. The throbbing in his aching balls finally subsiding, he collapsed on the broad chest of the King only to find himself pulled up once more so that Uther could assault his mouth yet again. After several more minutes of devouring lips, tangled tongues and nipping teeth, the King pulled back and pressed Merlin's head to his chest, tucking him just beneath his chin as both fought to bring their breathing under control and to let the trembling in their limbs subside.

Eventually recovered, Uther kissed Merlin gently, trailing his lips softly over each prominent cheekbone, down the angle of his jaw and ending at the corner of his deeply pink, swollen lips. "Take the morning off but don't leave the castle." The sorcerer sighed very, very softly but said, "All right, I won't." He kissed Uther back just as gently, though with just a touch to his lips and said, "Thank you."

______________________________________________________________________________________________

He stood in front of the mirror in the King's wardrobe (which incidentally now contained a corner for his own possessions) and ran a self-conscious hand down the fine doublet that Uther had gifted him with. In truth, he had gifted him with a ridiculously large (to Merlin's thinking) new wardrobe. All of it was of the finest material Merlin had ever worn. Frankly, it rivaled Arthur's clothing for quality and as such, the humble farmer-turned manservant felt more than a little strange wearing it. However, he accepted the gifts without complaint when Uther's pleasure had been all too obvious upon seeing him so appareled.

He smoothed the fine fabric of the high collar, hoping it wouldn't slip today and reveal the various marks of passion the King was constantly decorating his long, slender neck with. The deep, dark blue of the garment emphasized his sapphire eyes and snowy white skin and those high collars Uther insisted on, really played up the alluring length of his throat while also hiding the evidence of Uther's obsession with that very same perfect porcelain length of skin.

Merlin sighed a little bit, missing his simpler clothing even if a small part of him did revel in the softness of the fabric now swathing his body. Used to baggy tunics and loose, over sized breeches, the mage felt a bit exposed by how closely the garments he now wore followed the slender lines of his tall, lithe figure. He was especially self-conscious of how snugly his breeches clung to his bum. He looked at himself and didn't see the elegance of long lines and sweetly curved buttocks, didn't appreciate how the form fitting clothing actually revealed he _wasn't_ as scrawny and stick-like as he looked in his baggy old clothes. Perpetually teased about his slender build, all Merlin saw in the mirror was how narrow his waist and hips were, blind to their proper width in proportion with his shoulders and chest. He didn't see the appeal in his wiry defined muscles, he only saw his lack of bulk. He sighed once more, resigned to revealing his "beanpole" body as a trade off for finally being allowed the morning away from Uther's suite.

With a final adjustment of his high collar he left to see if he could find Arthur first. Over the last 14 days he'd keenly felt the loss of the "other side" of his coin. However, thanks to Uther's pre-breakfast repast, Arthur was no where to be found inside the castle. He'd known that the Prince was likely out training with his knights at this time of day but he'd hoped he might catch him anyway. Turning away from Arthur's empty and surprisingly messy chambers, he made his way to see Gaius, hoping the old man was sticking to his usual schedule. If so, he'd find the elderly physician mixing potions to keep his cabinets properly stocked.

It was with much delight that he found Gaius doing just that as he knocked softly on the door and ducked his head inside. A broad grin stretched his still puffy lips when he spied his mentor, turned away from the door, bustling about with several small cauldrons bubbling quietly as he sorted out ingredients with his usual careful precision.

Merlin cleared his throat loudly as he stepped through the door but the old man was deeply engrossed in his work and missed the sound. So instead, he knocked even louder on the open door and called, "Gaius?"

The physician whirled so quickly, he knocked over a small bubbling cauldron and without thinking, Merlin's eyes flashed gold and the boiling hot container returned to it's proper place in an instant.

"Merlin! How many times do I have to tell you..."

However, even as he was scolding his ward, he was quickly moving to meet the boy with a broad smile creasing his face. He folded the son-he-never-had into his arms and gave him a hearty hug which was returned with enthusiasm.

"Oh, my boy, how good it is to see you!" He pulled back but kept Merlin's shoulders in his hands as he leaned back to look him over.

"My goodness, I've never seen you looking so well! How have you been? I don't think I need to tell you that you've been sorely missed by no few people!"

The young warlock briefly ducked his head at that but responded, "It really wasn't my fault you know."

"I know my boy, Uther came to see me." There was an unmistakable note of censure in his voice and Merlin blushed scarlet from the top of his head to the tips of his toes.

Gaius gently pulled the black-haired youth over to the tiny dining table they'd shared so many meals and conversations over. Sitting him down, the old man took the seat opposite and regarded his boy with some concern, waiting until those ocean blue eyes rose to meet his own faded blue orbs. He spoke with quiet deliberation.

"Did he force you?"

He watched carefully as Merlin's eyes widened in surprise and "No! Never!" blurted from his rosy lips. The blush that had started to fade flushed the sorcerer's cheeks again as he shook his head.

"No, it...it was actually me that...well, that sort of started it."

At this Gaius's eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline and Merlin rushed to explain.

"You remember the night you sent me to bring him his 'draught' because you were working on that hiccup cure?"

"Of course I do, Merlin. That's the last time anyone aside from the King has seen you."

"Well, when I got there, Wilhem was gone and the King just called out for me to enter when I knocked. I went in and he was no where to be seen but then he called out from behind his changing screen and told me to put the draught on his bedside table. I went to do it but just as I was about to put the bottle down, I heard his voice right behind me asking for help undressing. I was so startled that I dropped the bottle. I bent over and made a grab for it but before I could control it, I slowed the bottle just before it hit the floor so it didn't break when it landed."

Gaius rolled his eyes in exasperation at this, shaking his head in disapproval but he didn't interrupt.

"I snatched up the bottle but when I turned back to Uther, he was looking at me really strangely and I was so scared he'd seen me cast that I was desperate to distract him. He'd come out for help with untangling the laces on his breeches," Merlin paused here, blushed an even darker shade of crimson and with a deep breath, blue eyes staring resolutely down at the surface of the table he continued.

"I was so desperate to distract him that I let my hands wander while I untangled his laces. I thought for sure I'd get thrown in the dungeon or at least the stocks for daring to...but he..." Merlin let out a deep whoosh of breath, "He responded. Positively. Very positively. So positively that he asked me to stay when I tried to leave after. The next morning he told me I was moving in with him and that's where I've been ever since."

When there was nothing but silence from his beloved mentor, Merlin rushed to apologize.

"I'm sorry Gaius, I know you must be so ashamed of me, I...I...I just panicked and it was wrong but it was all I could think of at the time and I never thought the King would want _me_! And then what could I do when he told me to stay when I was the one that started it?"

He finally looked up at the silent old man with his huge blue eyes pleading for forgiveness and understanding.

"Oh my boy, how do you get yourself into these messes? How on God's earth do you keep from getting caught and executed when you cast right in front of the King himself? I think you, yourself may have a guardian spirit because I can't imagine how someone so foolish has survived this long!"

He sighed and sat back in his chair. "I'm not angry Merlin and I'm not ashamed of you but you certainly aren't fulfilling your destiny while locked up in Uther's chambers, now are you? Not to mention that much proximity to the King is dangerous when you can't seem to control your own magic! I worry about you, Merlin. I worry more than you can imagine."

"Well, so far there's been no need for me to do any casting. Wilhem has been very kind and is teaching me his trade when Uther's not around. And the King, my God, the amount of paperwork that man has to do! Strangely enough, he's been sharing all of that with me. Explaining it all and letting me study everything alongside him when he's working in his chambers."

Merlin felt it probably wiser not to mention that he was alway settled in the King's lap being cuddled, kissed and absently nibbled on during these sessions while the monarch worked and taught him the intricacies of rule.

Once again both of Gaius' eyebrows were almost arching off his face.

"He's sharing state secrets with you?"

"Near as I can tell, he's sharing all of them with me. I know, I was as surprised as you. I always thought he considered me an idiot incapable of understanding anything more complex than the label on a gin bottle!"

"It's not the fact that he thinks you can understand it that surprises me, Merlin. It's that he _trusts_ you with that kind of information! Uther doesn't trust just anyone with those documents, that's why he works with them in his locked and guarded chambers."

The ebony-headed young man just shrugged at this. "I don't understand it either Gaius but I'm certainly learning a great deal. Hopefully that will make me a good adviser when Arthur becomes King."

"You're already a good adviser to Arthur but yes, this certainly could prove useful in the future. That is if you can get back to Arthur where you belong."

"I'm sure the King will get bored with me soon enough. I mean, what am I to him? He doesn't know about the dragon's prophecy. To him, I'm just a servant he's taken a passing fancy to. I mean, it's not like I'm anything special, he's the King! He can have anyone he wants, I'm sure soon enough someone else will catch his eye and then I'll be out the door faster than I can say goodnight."

Gaius regarded Merlin for several moments before speaking. He let his eyes wander over the new clothes, the impeccable way Merlin was currently groomed, his hair clearly having been cut by someone who knew what they were doing (probably Wilhem) and finally the love-bites visible on the boy's neck whenever he leaned a certain way. Merlin was probably unaware of it but he didn't even look like a servant anymore, he looked like a noble. A noble who clearly had an ardent lover.

"Merlin, I've known the King since he was little older than you, well, maybe a little older than Arthur but still, I've known him for a very long time. I'm not sure how to tell you this but...he's never had a live-in-lover since his wife died. Not even for a few days, let alone weeks. He doesn't even share with _Arthur_ the secrets he shares with you. I don't think you are simply a passing fancy to him. Not at all. And I fear that is not a good thing for the Prince or the Kingdom. It is imperative that you are by _his_ side, not Uther's if Camelot's future is to be assured."

Sapphirine eyes almost bugging out of his head, Merlin sat there gobsmacked. He'd been blithely certain that he was nothing special to the King, that Uther just liked to have his current lover close at hand while his passion was up and that surely it wouldn't last very long. He hadn't made any inquiries, he'd only made assumptions because after all, aside from his magic, of which Uther knew nothing, there wasn't anything special about him at all. He was "Merlin, the idiot".

"What are you telling me, Gaius? You think the King is in...no, that's so ridiculous, I can't even say it!"

"Yes Merlin, it seems the King is in love with you."

"No, that's just not possible. It isn't. I'm a nobody and Uther is very keen on status. I'm sure he's just keeping me there as a convenience because I _am_ such a nobody. Who would miss me? I'm just a servant and an incompetent one at that. Look, he wouldn't even let Arthur go get the Morteus flower for me and how many times has he had me thrown in the stocks? No, he certainly can't think of me as anything more than a bed-warmer!"

"If that were so, he'd only require your presence at night, wouldn't he?"

"Well...he...he...hehasmewarmhisbedduringthedayalottoo" The scarlet blush was back on Merlin's face as he rushed all the words out at once.

"He what?"

Merlin sighed very loudly, his shoulders slumped and once again he looked down at the table and not at his mentor.

"He has me warm his bed during the day a lot, too."

Gaius winced, closed his eyes and shook his head. He allowed his body language convey the _I told you so_ without speaking a word. The raven haired boy threw up his hands.

"What am I supposed to do about it? He's the King for Gods' sake! He wants me to stay with him, I have to stay with him! Look, I really don't think he's in love with me, it's probably just a lot of pent up lust. You said he never had a live-in-lover since his wife died. It's probably just years of pent up frustration and I was there when it broke, convenient."

Now there was only the one raised eyebrow which was Gaius's way of challenging his reasoning and chastising him all at the same time.

"I said he didn't have a _live-in-lover_ , he's certainly had plenty of transient lovers over the years."

"Well? What am I supposed to do? I certainly don't know how to get out of this one!"

Eyebrows both back in place, Gaius nodded in defeated agreement. He didn't know how to put an end to the situation either. He'd never seen the King this focused on anyone since Ygraine had passed. He feared it was Uther's anxiety at the thought of losing another love that was behind his keeping Merlin a virtual prisoner in his chambers. He also had a sneaking suspicion he was trying to keep Arthur away from Merlin as well. Why else only allow the boy out of his rooms with the condition of not leaving the castle when he knew Arthur would not be in it?

Taking a break from Merlin's impossible situation, the two spent time talking about what Merlin had missed while he was holed up with the King. When the sorcerer asked, he told him the truth about the speculation running rife within the castle and even in the town around it. He sympathized with the squirming discomfort this caused the young man but he saw no point in lying about it.

Finally Merlin asked the question Gaius had been waiting for since his arrival.

"And Arthur? Has he said anything to anyone? Has he even noticed I'm gone?"

That eyebrow flew up again and the old physician looked at Merlin as one does a brain damaged child. "Of course he has. He's been here half a dozen times asking about you. I don't think he's quite figured it out yet though. Uther has been telling everyone that you are simply there to aid Wilhem in his old age. No one believes him of course, not even Arthur. However, I think the Prince is under the impression, no doubt given to him by his father, that this is some form of punishment for him. Arthur let it slip that his father had told him that since he didn't care for his "gift", that's you by the way, that it was taken away from him."

It was Merlin's black eyebrows that nearly disappeared into his new haircut this time. "His gift?"

"Yes, Uther gifted you to Arthur when he made you his manservant and now he's taken his gift back."

"I thought serving Arthur was supposed to be _my_ gift for saving his life. Not a gift for Arthur."

"I'll tell you something now and it may be your only way out. I think Uther feels guilty for stealing you from both Arthur and I. He certainly was acting that way when he came to inform me that you wouldn't be back as my apprentice. Of course, he'd never admit it but I know the man. Guilt was written all over his face. I think he turned it around on Arthur because he couldn't admit the truth to his son. Not that he admitted it to me but I'm not a young, self-absorbed Prince out to win his father approval either. I read between the lines. I don't think Arthur has."

Merlin bit his still swollen lower lip and winced slightly but was too lost in thought to give the small sting more than a moment's notice. He was shaking his head and staring at the wall with no little intensity. The two stayed that way for a while, both wracking their brains to come up with something to break Uther's hold on Merlin. Because while Merlin didn't mind a few weeks of relative pampering and a lot of mind-blowing sex, he had a destiny to fulfill and that destiny lay with Arthur, not Uther.

Eventually, Merlin rose to leave. He was supposed to be back to join Uther for lunch and he wanted to see if Arthur had returned yet. When he found he hadn't, he visited with Morgana and Gwen until he was forced to return to his gilded cage.

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	4. Arthur's Faced with A Tune of His Own

Bright moonlight was spilling across Arthur's bed as he tossed himself back and forth across it's wide width, attempting but failing to find a position that would allow the tension to drain from his body. Finally he sat up and peeled back the bed-covers with an impatient sigh. Moments later he was padding quietly on bare feet to the open window and settling on the sill to look out over the courtyard to the light still glowing from a window in one of his father's chambers. The light radiated from the corner where this wing of the building met the next, his father's suite spanning both sides of the junction. However the Prince knew which room was still alight and he felt his guts twist yet again. It was the window of the King's bedchamber that was still blazing so brightly in the night.

Once he'd realized what was going on in that bedchamber every night, he'd been unable to sleep whilst that window glowed in the dark hours. Not that he'd been sleeping particularly well before that. He hadn't had a decent night's rest since his father had taken Merlin away. It had nagged at his conscience that his servant and friend had been reassigned to his father's service through some failing of his own. At least that's what he had believed at first and his father, that devious bastard, had allowed and even encouraged him to think it.

However, after the first week or so, Arthur had realized something strange was going on. No one had seen Merlin since he'd made a late night delivery to the King from Gaius. Everyone in the palace had seemed to be walking on egg shells whenever the Prince was near and at first, the pitying glances and evasive answers to his demands for information had merely deepened his belief that Merlin's sudden absence was his own fault. But the circumstances of Merlin's conscription and complete disappearance were just too bizarre for him to believe that his raven-haired manservant had merely switched one royal master for another.

First there was the matter of just where the boy was sleeping. Everyone knew that Willhem occupied the servant's room attached to the King's suite. Merlin had always stayed with his guardian Gaius while he served Arthur, even though the Prince also had a small room attached to his meant for a body-servant. Arthur had never liked having someone else in his rooms and so had always used the spare chamber for storage. He supposed they could have crammed another cot into Willhem's room, God knew that Merlin was used to cramped quarters. That was just the first puzzle for him. The really odd thing was that Merlin _never_ emerged from the King's suite, not for any errand, not even to visit Gaius to whom he'd been simultaneously apprenticed whilst serving Arthur. Even his closest friend among the servants, Gwen, had not seen him since the afternoon before his disappearance into Uther's chambers.

Willhem came and went. He seemed to still be performing all of his duties by himself. He was supposed to be training Merlin to take over or help with his work so one would have expected to see the boy at _his_ side if his father's claims were true. Instead it was Willhem alone that fetched private meals for the King and stood attendance at the few public meals where Uther put in an appearance these last few weeks. It was Willhem that Arthur saw carrying laundry in and out of the Royal suite as well as going to and from the lower town on his father's business. Merlin was no where to be seen and did not seem to be performing any chores on his father's behalf at all.

It had crossed his mind briefly to wonder if his former manservant was even still alive. Could Uther have murdered him in a fit of rage and be hiding the fact from everyone? Almost as soon as the thought had formed though, Arthur dismissed it. If his father _had_ killed Merlin he wouldn't have bothered to hide it, he'd have more likely made a production of it, claiming the boy had finally annoyed the King badly enough to warrant a personal execution.

No, nothing had made sense about any of it, at least not to Arthur. He'd been such an idiot to remain ignorantly confused about what was really going on. If it hadn't been for Morgana, he might still be in the dark. He'd just _never_ have thought Uther of all people would snatch up someone like _Merlin_ as a lover.

Though the thought of the two of them together made him want to throw up again and again, he supposed it made a twisted sort of sense. The clumsy, outspoken but tragically lovely manservant had always seemed to get under his father's skin like no one else Arthur had ever seen. He'd innocently assumed it was Merlin's failings that so irritated the King. Now that he knew what he did, he could see that much of that aggravation had been coming from a sexual frustration he'd never have attributed to his own father.

He realized that he really knew nothing of his father's sex life and honestly, he wished he still lived in that happy ignorance. It certainly never occurred to him that his father would have leanings toward comely serving boys. For Gods sake, Merlin was younger than he was! As he was a rather late-in-life child himself, he knew that the black-haired, blue eyed boy was young enough to be Uther's grandson and that was more than enough to make him cringe.

However much his father's behavior with such a young man outraged Arthur's sensibilities, that wasn't what was bothering him most about the situation. It was his own anguish over losing Merlin to his father that was truly sickening him. Once his eyes had been opened, it forced him to examine what was really causing the burning pain in his chest at the idea of Merlin with Uther.

Once his shock had worn off, he realized that it could have been anyone. Had Merlin gone off and had an affair with _anyone_ , Arthur would still feel like this. Whilst his happy-go-lucky servant and friend had remained by his side, seemingly innocent and oblivious to all the attention his looks and sweet, sunny nature attracted, the Prince was happy to be oblivious to it as well. Merlin never indicated a desire to spend his time and attention on anyone other than Arthur and that had suited him just fine. He hadn't felt the need to explore why having such a clumsy, impulsive, outspoken and downright disrespectful manservant made him happy when a long line of competent and properly behaved menials had been fired in rapid succession, leaving him without a personal servant most of the time.

Then, suddenly his sunny side-kick was gone and he was left feeling bereft and terribly, terribly lonely. He'd told himself it was just that he'd never had a constant companion before; he'd never before had someone he could trust by his side. That had held true until the very moment that Morgana's pitying and sorrowful eyes had finally lit a candle in his mind and he realized that he felt more for Merlin than mere friendship. He'd remembered that jolt of attraction that had so unnerved him at their first meeting, their first physical contact. It had been so mixed up with shock at the cheek of an upstart peasant daring to berate him in public and the subsequent annoyance with that same insolence that his first impression of Merlin's looks had been forgotten.

The electric shock of physical pleasure he'd felt when he'd yanked the wiry boy's body up against his own as he forced the younger man to submit had been a carefully suppressed memory. All he'd allowed himself to remember was his satisfaction at telling the bumpkin that no, he wasn't the King but he _was_ the King's son. The odd feeling of triumph at seeing the lad dragged off to the dungeon for his hasty words and foolish attempt to swing a fist at the Prince of Camelot had lingered in him for much longer than it should have.

He remembered being annoyed when he'd found the boy had been released from the dungeon on his father's orders and instead merely locked in the stocks for an afternoon. He'd been looking forward to strolling down there and taunting the infuriating peasant after dinner. It wouldn't have done for him to join the crowd of mostly children pelting the boy with rotten produce so he'd tried to banish the irritating stripling from his thoughts.

He'd managed to do so until just a day or so later when he saw the same tall young man hurrying through the street just outside the main castle gates. He'd been unable to refrain from taunting the boy once again. He'd never admit to anyone (even himself) that he'd wanted to see the raven-haired, porcelain skinned peasant again just for the pleasure of looking at him. He'd been hoping to observe that flash of defiance in his antagonist's large sapphire eyes once again. When the tall, lean, fragile-looking youth had accepted his challenge, he'd been impressed at the pup's ill-placed bravado. It had been a shock finding himself on his back with the boy towering over him asking for his surrender. He knew he'd have overwhelmed the gangly young man even if the lad hadn't been distracted by the arrival of his disapproving guardian but he still admired the untrained boy for lasting that long against him.

That admiration hadn't lasted past Merlin's first day as his servant when he'd armoured him up and tried to use him as a sparring partner. He might be a terrible servant but he was even worse as a would-be warrior. Initially he'd been outraged when his father had foisted the irritating boy on him as a servant but he'd comforted himself that he'd fire the insolent creature after about a week of service. Instead, he'd found himself enjoying Merlin's cheery cheek and to be honest, it was only lack of experience that made the boy a "terrible" servant in those early days. As Merlin himself had assured him on what was only his third day of employment, he _was_ a fast learner. At least as far as most of his job was concerned. He did still suffer from a lack of respect, an inability to arrive on time in the mornings and a tendency to skiv-off certain duties if he could get away with it.

Somehow, Arthur found him to be both aggravating and endearing all at once and it had intrigued him enough to keep him around, long after he'd ever intended to. Merlin had quickly proved himself incredibly loyal and tolerant of Arthur's mercurial moods, taunts, insults and endless demands. He'd pushed and pushed the boy just to see where his breaking point was. It had surprised and pleased him to find that as far as work was concerned, Merlin didn't seem to have one. He'd huff, puff and sometimes complain but he always did whatever the Prince asked of him, _always_. Yes, he knew damn well that having his manservant muck out his stables and tend to other lowly and disgusting jobs wasn't really appropriate and in recent days he'd only demanded it of his friend when he was in a particularly perverse mood. The problem was that Merlin seemed to bring out that perversity quite often.

Then there had been Lancelot. He'd treated the false noble like dirt in the beginning and he acknowledged to himself now that it hadn't been a way of testing the would-be knight. It had been pure jealousy on his part. He'd hated seeing the almost worshipful gleam in Merlin's eyes when he'd looked at the handsome, dark eyed man. It was worse than that, he'd hated the obvious closeness that existed between them. There was a bond there, one he still didn't understand and that still set his teeth on edge when he thought about the talented warrior. Lancelot had allowed Merlin to touch him, to openly hug him and he had touched and hugged the youth back. During his short stint in Camelot he'd slept in Merlin's room, had he shared Merlin's bed? Had they been lovers?

Arthur felt his jaw tightening and his fists clenching at the idea. At the time, he hadn't allowed himself to examine his feelings, instinctively shying away from recognizing his dislike as jealousy. Instead he'd shoved those feelings down as deeply as he could and let the man rise and fall on his own merits. However, knowing what he knew now, he couldn't help picturing the two together. It provoked a burning rage and the same sickening twist in his gut that he experienced whenever he thought of Merlin with his father. He looked across the courtyard again and had to turn away from the light that was _still_ burning in his father's bedchamber.

In times gone by, that light had evoked concern from him because it meant his father was unable to sleep for some reason or other. His father shared with his son few of the day to day problems that he knew plagued their kingdom. He just left Arthur to his military training, required him to attend a few counsel meetings each week and demanded he be present for entertaining any guests of note. However, Arthur knew that a myriad of complex political and social issues came across his father's desk each day. Uther dealt with them all on his own or with the counsel of others, never that of the Crown Prince.

Now, those glowing panes of glass represented Arthur's greatest torment. Everyone had noted the King's improved appearance, increased energy and newfound tolerance for the smaller irritations that plagued his days. Despite the light that blazed from his windows late in the night, it seemed the King was sleeping better and feeling better than he had in months. Everyone knew why of course. Now that Arthur was listening for it, he could hear it everywhere. Having a steady lover seemed to be doing the King a world of good.

Even so, there seemed to be a pall that hung over much of the palace. It wasn't just the Prince, it seemed almost _everyone_ who worked or lived there was missing Merlin's sunny presence in their lives. Of course, Gaius and Arthur were the worst afflicted as they'd been the ones to spend most of their time with the charismatic young man. However, the kitchen staff, the stable hands and even Arthur's knights seemed to sorely miss the way the boy managed to lighten the heart of any who spied his ever-ready smile.

It was as if Uther had stolen the sun and hoarded it away for his own private enjoyment, leaving everyone around him in a sort of gloomy twilight. Arthur wasn't imagining it. Morgana, who always had her finger on the pulse of castle life had confirmed it only the night before.

Uther had entirely abandoned the "family" suppers they'd used to have several nights a week. After the first week, Morgana had taken to joining Arthur for the evening meal in his rooms on a similar schedule. Arthur had been pathetically grateful for his adoptive-sister's presence, not that he'd admit it to anyone, even under torture. Morgana knew, though, just like she seemed to know everything else. He'd never been able to keep a secret from her and oh, how that had irritated him in the past! Now, he was thankful and she was sensitive enough not to lord it over him.

"Gods' I am so tired of gloomy faces and everyone's teeth on edge!" she'd exclaimed last night.

"What on earth did everyone do _before_ Merlin came? It's as if no one seems to know how to get by without that boy bumbling around the castle."

Arthur had looked up from pushing his food listlessly around his plate and grimaced an apology at her.

"I'm sorry Morgana, I've not been good company of late, have I?"

"Well, it's not like you were before either." She'd smirked teasingly at him for a moment before going on. "But it's not just you Arthur. It's Gwen, it's Gaius, it's the chamber maids, the stable boys and for Gods' sake, even your knights haven't had the heart to go down and carouse in the lower town in weeks. The taverns will shut for lack of business ere much more time passes!"

"You don't miss him?" Arthur dared.

"Of course I miss him, you lummox! Weren't you just listening? _Everyone_ misses him! It's as if there's been a cloud over the castle ever since he disappeared."

"At least you got to see him."

"Once, briefly. He had to be back before lunch. Ye Gods', what on earth is going through Uther's tiny mind these days? He can't keep the boy locked up forever."

"I beg to differ, he's the King, he can do whatever the hell he wants and damn the consequences if it hurts everyone around him. He's gotten good at doing that."

Morgana winced at that, knowing only how true the statement was. Uther was a self-centered bastard if ever there was one. There was only one way in Camelot, _his_. Anything else was crushed beneath his booted heel. She'd looked at Arthur and seen the boot marks all over him in the form of lank, limp hair, sunken cheeks, darkly circled eyes and a pastiness to his skin that persisted despite the semi-permanent tan he had from daily training in the sun.

"How long has it been since you slept properly?"

"I don't know."

"Yes, you do."

"Then so do you."

She sighed and nodded. "You're not alone."

"I've always been alone. At least before it didn't bother me. Now..."

At that Morgana had done something she hadn't done since before they'd become teens. She got up, walked over to Arthur and hugged him. As he was seated and she was standing, the Prince had found his face pressed into her stomach and he'd responded by wrapping his arms around her slim waist and hugging her back tightly.

"I want him back," he'd whispered almost inaudibly against the softness of her gown.

She'd tightened her arms and whispered in return, "I know. We all want him back but you _need_ him back."

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The Prince had finally managed a few fitful hours of sleep after the light in his father's window had finally gone dark. His dreams allowed him little rest though, as his mind tortured him with various scenarios. The worst was one where he and Merlin were wrapped up in each other's arms, bodies rubbing slickly against each other, mouths enmeshed, tongues tangled, breath mingling, hands wandering, squeezing and stroking. Then suddenly he felt his lover yanked from his arms. His eyes opened dazedly to see Merlin was now in his father's arms and it was their mouths, their bodies entwined together as he was left cold and shivering, the sweat of denied passion drying on his skin as Uther took Merlin in Arthur's own bed while he stood aside, helplessly watching.

He'd lurched out of sleep, drenched in sweat, that last image burning in his mind's eye as the weak and watery light of early dawn cast it's feeble illumination through his still open window. He shivered though it wasn't cold. His chest ached and he rubbed it as if the pain was a physical injury. The ache was far too deep for any massage to help. The pain radiated throughout his core, getting worse day by day.

He looked around his room, at the chaos he would allow no one to touch. He'd permitted the chamber maids to remove only his soiled laundry and for the ewerers to draw him a bath now and then. He was stubbled and unkempt and his father would have been appalled had his father allowed the Prince anywhere near him. It was a month now. Two weeks ago, his father had ceased summoning him for counsel meetings. He received a curt message excusing him from counsel duty and ordering him to use the extra time to train his knights as they were "getting sloppy" with the lack of any martial activity in the area.

Morgana had speculated that Uther was feeling guilty. Arthur highly doubted it. His father would have to care about him to feel guilty. More likely, Uther didn't care for the accusing glares and contemptuous monosyllabic answers he'd been giving the King ever since he'd figured out what was going on. Arthur's rage was palpable whenever he saw his father. He was disgusted with his father's cowardly attempt to make him feel that it was _his_ fault that Merlin had been taken away. Did the man's hypocrisy know no bounds? He was revolted that his father was diddling a boy young enough to be his grandson. Mostly, however he was incandescent with rage that Uther had taken from him the only person to ever care about Arthur for his own sake.

Merlin was _his_ God damn it! Merlin had been _his_ from the moment their skin had met as he'd grabbed hold of the boy in the middle of the training ground in the upper town. He'd claimed him then with all of the city looking on. God help him, he'd been _Merlin's_ from the moment he had laid eyes on the tall, slender peasant with the challenge in his ocean blue eyes.

He wouldn't stand for it another day. He was going to confront his father. He was going to get Merlin back! Uther had no right to him. He'd given him to Arthur in front of the entire court. Even if he was the King, he had no business co-opting someone who belonged to his son. Uther had denied his son entrance to his chambers ever since the night he'd taken Merlin away but he couldn't keep Arthur from the hall beyond his chambers. He intended to hunt his father down and reclaim the raven-haired center of his world if it was the last thing he ever did.

With purpose, he called for a bath and readied his razor himself. No one but Merlin had shaved him since his first day as Arthur's servant and no one else ever had before. He'd never trusted _anyone_ with a blade to his throat before Merlin. The sad truth was that he'd let Merlin bathe and dress him just for the pleasure of having those long, slender (and remarkably soft) hands touch him whenever he could find an opportunity. He'd just told himself he was doing it to make the country bumpkin uncomfortable. Despite Merlin and Morgana's teasing, he was perfectly capable of bathing, dressing and grooming himself. He'd been doing all of it for himself long before the damnably beautiful farm boy had come into his life. At first, Merlin had been unmistakably awkward about his duties as a body-servant and Arthur had enjoyed his initial discomfort. It had given the Prince a convenient mental excuse to dismiss any consideration of desire on his part.

 _Gods, I've been such a fucking moron. I've wanted him ever since I first laid eyes on him. Why couldn't I see that? Pride? Was it because he constantly challenges me? Or was it because some part of me recognized that I couldn't simply screw him then walk away like I have every other person I've been with?_

Suddenly an image from one of his nightmares flashed across his mind's eye.

 _Fear? Cernunnos' horns! What if Merlin doesn't want me? Could he be in love with Father? No! That's preposterous, he was always scared to death of him. But...that doesn't mean he wants me._

Uncertainty now wracked the usually uber confident Arthur. He couldn't think of a single instance where Merlin had shown a sexual interest in him. He was utterly convinced that the younger man felt an unswervingly loyal friendship for him but what if that's all it was? What if his previously unacknowledged passion for his manservant and friend was all one sided? Merlin had certainly been uncomfortable with his employer's nudity and the intimacy of some of his duties at the beginning of his service but that was easily explained by the boy's somewhat sheltered upbringing. He'd lived his whole life without a father or brothers. It wasn't much of a stretch to imagine he hadn't bathed with or near other adult males terribly often.

He'd certainly never had to dress or groom anyone but himself up to that point in his life. The black-haired boy had been squeamish and tentative the first time Arthur had demanded a massage after a particularly harsh day on the tournament field. However, like all the other intimate duties expected of him, Merlin had relaxed and seemingly become comfortable performing that or any action the Prince required of him. After the initial awkwardness had worn off, the other man had become his usual chatty self while engaged in these activities.

Arthur tried and failed to remember a single moment where his servant's eyes or hands had lingered inappropriately at an intimate task, even for a fraction of a second. While careful and caring with Arthur's person, there was an efficiency of action that seemed to defy any physical attraction on Merlin's part. The boy was disappointingly casual with the Prince's body.

His earlier purpose arrested by the sudden thought that Merlin might not _want_ to come back to him, he dropped listlessly back onto the bed. He was startled several minutes later when there was a quick knock on the door and a ewerer appeared carrying buckets of steaming hot water for the bath he'd ordered. He watched in silence as the boy prepared his bath, noting how neatly the young servant performed his task. There wasn't a single drop spilled or splashed on the floor around the tub. Gods knew Merlin couldn't manage the task so ably. He always spilled _something_. If he didn't spill any water directly on the floor, he'd still wind up liberally splashing the area around the tub while scrubbing the Prince's back or washing his hair.

After the first time Arthur had slipped in the mess and landed on his royal rump, cursing the wincing servant, Merlin had always carefully taken his arm as he rose from the tub. He would then gently steer the Prince clear of the slippery bits of flooring before briskly rubbing him dry with a soft linen towel. He closed his eyes as he remembered the feel of Merlin's hands on him, the way their warmth always bled through the barrier of the cloth between his skin and his servant's hands and the brisk finger-tip massaging of his body that always accompanied the drying of his skin. Yes, Merlin was efficient but he was also extremely careful, almost nurturing whenever he handled Arthur's person.

The Prince wasn't sure this was due to Merlin's natural care towards others or if it was a particular care for him and without any access to his former servant, there was no way to find out. He'd always liked to think he was special but he'd also watched with barely contained annoyance how carefully Merlin had attended to Lancelot while he was pretending to be a noble. If anything, his servant had been more handsy with that dark-haired devil than he ever was with Arthur.

He found he was grinding his teeth as he slipped into his freshly poured bath.

He'd changed his mind. He needed to get to Merlin _before_ he confronted his father. Arthur needed to know what sort of thinking was going on under that mop of black hair so he'd know how and if to proceed. There was no point in fighting with his father if his friend was happy where he was.

 

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Please review! I ask you to be polite but all comments are welcome. Tell me what you liked; tell me what you hated. I have a definite direction this is going in but if you have some suggestions, feel free to offer them. I can't promise I'll use them but I certainly will consider them! Thanks!


	5. Seek Out the Song

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Do I really need a disclaimer? I don't own these characters, to be honest, the BBC doesn't really own them either since they come from legend but since this is a fan site, you can assume I have the actors they use in mind ;-)

**Facing the Music**

by Nightfox

(Sequel to Uther's Morning After)

Chapter 5 **Seek Out the Song**

The sun had yet to rise over the battlements but Camelot's king was awake and working his way through an early breakfast when his manservant asked for a word. Willhem rarely used his favored position as Uther's oldest and most trusted retainer to advise the King but when he did, the Royal paid attention.

"Sire, don't you think this has gone on long enough? You can't keep him caged up here forever and you can't keep him wrapped in lambswool either. That's no way to live. It's not fair to the boy."

Both Willhem and the King looked towards the vast royal bed where the lanky, black-haired boy in question sprawled out in exhausted slumber.

"I know you care for him but he's just not happy. You can't expect such an active young man to just suddenly stop every thing and be content to just wait around all day, every day, for you to have time for him."

"He's supposed to be helping you."

"He does what he can do here but if you'll pardon me Sire, that was an excuse for decorum's sake. I don't think anyone in the kingdom believed it for a moment, except perhaps your son and even he seems to have caught on."

"Has Merlin been complaining, Willhem?"

"No Sire, not that boy. I don't think he ever would but I'm here when you aren't, Sire and I can see it. He went from having two jobs, either of which would have been full time for anyone else and now, he has nothing to do with himself most of the day. You do care for him, do you not?"

Uther looked at the only man in the kingdom permitted to speak to him with such honesty. Both eyebrows lowered.

"You know I care for him," Uther let out a short sigh, "More than simply care for him."

"Consider my words then, Sire. Perhaps you could let him assist his guardian again? At least in the mornings? I think it might help a great deal. Otherwise, I fear even his patience will run out."

"I'll consider it, Willhem. Just...not quite yet. Now, could you please give us some privacy?"

"Yes, Sire."

 

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Arthur was frustrated. There was no other word for it. He'd been lurking in the halls near his father's chambers for over two weeks. He'd been unable to catch so much as a glimpse of Merlin in that time. He pestered Morgana so much that she had simply begun to stop by his room twice a day to report that there were no new sightings of his former servant by anyone in the castle.

He had finally had enough. No one but the King and Willhem had seen Merlin in more than a month and a half. He couldn't even conceive of how Merlin was coping with his confinement. He was also seriously concerned about Merlin's willingness considering his father was clearly keeping his former servant captive in his suite. Granted, it was probably the most comfortable prison anyone had ever been forced to occupy but he knew Merlin well enough to know that he'd never have chosen to be locked away from the world like this if he had a say. The younger man just wasn't the type to abandon his friends and withdraw from the world. The only time Arthur could remember seeing Merlin still was that terrible day he was poisoned in the Prince's stead. He shook off that gloomy memory as he made his way up to the battlements.

Upon reaching them, he carefully paced to where the walls loomed over the interior courtyard just above the King's suite of rooms. Because it was the Prince so engaged, the sentries didn't dare question why he anchored a long length of rope to one of the crenelations and threw the free end down an inside wall. As of late, the soldiers and more than a few of his knights were avoiding him as best they could due to the foul mood he'd been in for the last several weeks. It hadn't gone unnoticed by any of the castle's denizens that while their King was showing definite signs of happiness and a mellowing of his temper, the direct opposite was happening to his son. So the guards on duty pacing back and forth past him dared not question his blatantly bizarre behavior.

Once he was certain the rope was secure and would bear his weight, he began to rappel down the wall until he was dangling just outside the window to his fathers bedchamber. It wasn't open so he pushed on the decorative panes of glass hoping they were at least unlatched. However, luck was not with him in that moment. So instead, he rapped on the glass sharply, hoping it would be Merlin that heard the strange summons and not Willhem. To his everlasting gratitude, it was a smooth white face topped by a cap of wavy black hair that appeared when the window swung inward. The boy's large sapphire eyes widened almost comically as he observed the Crown Prince of Camelot dangling on a rope outside the King's bedroom window.

"Arthur what the hell are you doing?"

The Prince grinned in relief at seeing that face.

"What do you think I'm doing, you idiot? I came to see you. A little help here?"

Merlin leaned out and grabbed Arthur by his belt, pulling him close enough to the window for the smiling blonde to slip his feet over the sill and slither the rest of the way through the suddenly wide open window. Merlin hadn't let go of his belt throughout the maneuver so when his feet hit the floor and he stood upright, the Prince found the object of his recent preoccupation standing at very close range indeed.

The position suited Arthur very well but Merlin let go of his belt and stepped back quickly. The blonde felt a small pang at the motion but didn't let it show on his face.

"I saw Uther leave, is your other minder about?"

Merlin blushed a deep red at the question, for reasons Arthur didn't want to know.

"No, Willhem was gone before I woke this morning."

"Perfect!" Arthur commented with an insouciance he didn't feel as he dropped into a graceful sprawl in his father's favorite chair. "Then it's just us."

He watched Merlin fidget in discomfort standing before him, for once the black-haired boy's tongue seemed to have deserted him. Arthur gave him the same look he usually used when teasing him for a particularly spectacular act of idiocy, all the while taking an intense survey of his former servant's new look.

The Prince had to hand it to Uther, he'd certainly not stinted on his new toy. Merlin looked...delicious, there really was no other way to put it. He was plushly attired in a deep red velvet doublet and butter soft black breeches. The garments clung lovingly to every dip and curve of his lithe body. His hair was cut so that it curled softly over the tips of his ears and brushed against the nape of his neck. The high collar he had on drew attention to the long length of his neck while the dark fabric highlighted the pearly perfection of his alabaster skin. Morgana had been spot-on when she'd said the younger boy appeared to be "positively blooming."

Meanwhile, Merlin was subjecting his Prince to a similar inspection but clearly didn't find the the results nearly as gratifying.

"Arthur, you look terrible! What's happened?"

Cerulean eyes met sapphire and held for a moment. Arthur swallowed convulsively when he saw the deep concern in those impossibly blue orbs. He was unable to think for a long moment.

"Well, I've been without a manservant for a while now and I guess I'm not as good at grooming myself as I once was."

Merlin drew close again and his eyes unabashedly ran over Arthur's face and form, taking in the hollowed cheeks, the pasty skin, the straw-like hair and the sunken eyes underlined by terribly dark circles.

"That's not what I mean, you prat. You look like you've been ill! Are you alright? What the hell do you think you're doing, dangling about on a rope in your condition? What's Gaius said? I'd bet he doesn't even know you're out of bed. Were you wounded again? Uther never mentioned any actions or battles taking place!"

"Merlin, I'm fine. I just haven't been sleeping very well lately."

"You never have trouble sleeping, what's happened?"

The Prince looked at him incredulously. What's happened? Is he really that clueless? Well, why wouldn't he be? Have I ever really given him any reason to suspect I think of him as anything special? He squirmed a bit in the King's chair.

"I find myself restless after a day not filled with the inane chatter of an idiot and apparently slumber is elusive when I haven't had at least part of my supper dumped in my lap."

Again Merlin's eyes widened, "You're saying you missed me? Arthur? What...why...um...I thought you'd have forgotten about me by now."

Two golden eyebrows shot up.

"You can not be serious? You disappear one night on an errand for Gaius and you think I wouldn't notice that you've been missing for two months?"

"Uther, I mean, the King said he'd talk to you."

Arthur snorted rather inelegantly at this. "He told me he was taking you away because I didn't deserve you."

Eyes now positively bugging, Merlin exclaimed, "He said what?"

"Actually, he said I'd 'mistreated my gift' and that he was sure I had it in for you."

"Gaius was right!" The sorcerer sagged back into the chair next to Arthur.

"Gaius?"

"He mentioned that the King may have implied to you that it was you're fault I wasn't in your...service...anymore."

"He damned well did, that fucking hypocrite!"

Merlin was shocked at the venom in the Prince's voice.

"Arthur, I swear I never once complained to him about your treatment of me. I don't know where he got that idea..."

The younger Pendragon ducked his head a bit.

"I do." He looked up and met the puzzled stare of the beautiful boy who'd haunted his every waking moment for the last 2 months.

"Have you actually been doing any training with Willhem?" At Merlin's nod, he continued, "Well, there may have been a task or two that I assigned you that were a little...inappropriate."

The warlock suddenly grinned at this. "You mean the horses, hawks and dogs?"

"Perhaps."

Unconsciously biting his lip, the Prince found his heart racing as he beheld that familiar grin for the first time in what seemed like eternity. He couldn't help the smirk that eventually tugged up one corner of his own mouth.

The moment dragged on a bit too long and suddenly the air between them became awkward again. There was too much Arthur needed to know, so many questions he needed Merlin to answer but he floundered around for a starting place. His face darkened as he thought of the most imperative inquiry he had . Clearing his throat, he pinned the pale-skinned boy in place with an intent stare.

"I need to know this. Merlin, did he...did he force you?" Because if he did, I swear I will kill him with my bare hands, father or no.

He watched closely as that milk pale skin flushed a painfully hot red. Merlin shook his head and dropped his gaze to the table corner between them.

"No, no he didn't use force."

When the warlock bent his head, it forced the high collar he was wearing down and Arthur's gut twisted as he observed the bite marks adorning Merlin's long white neck in varying shades of red, purple, black and blue. He struggled to tamp down the jealous rage clawing at his throat.

"Are you...happy here?"

Merlin's head snapped up quickly and his soft mouth twisted ruefully. "Not exactly."

"Has he...hurt you at all?"

"No! No, he's not like that." Arthur's mouth thinned and his jaw tightened painfully at Merlin's swift, soft voiced defense.

"He hasn't ever hurt me. I just can't say I like being locked up tighter than Dierdre in Conchobar's castle."

"Who?"

Soft lips curled at the corners. "An Irish singer came through our village once and sang the tale of Dierdre of the Sorrows. You never heard it?"

"An Irish singer in the court of Camelot? I think not."

"Well, Dierdre was daughter to the King of Ulster's royal storyteller. Before she was born the chief druid at court prophesied that the child would grow up to be the most beautiful woman in all of Ireland. He said that she would be the cause of much bloodshed and suffering as Kings and Lords would go to war in order to possess her beauty. So, thinking to divert this outcome, the King decided to raise her in seclusion and when she was of age, marry her himself. So she was brought up in captivity with only a single old woman for companionship."

The prince stared at his former servant in astonishment. He was actually a bit surprised at his friend's rather worldly knowledge and also how accurately he'd summed up his own captivity with the tale.

"It's not that I'm saying I'm anything special like that, it's just that Uther, the King I mean, it's just that he won't let me leave his rooms at all. I just don't understand it."

"But you are, Merlin"

"I am what?"

"You are special. Everyone in the palace has been miserable without you around."

The warlock's soft lips pursed in annoyance.

"Don't be taking the piss out of me. It's not funny."

"I'm not! I'd tell you to ask Morgana if you don't believe me but seeing as how my father won't let anyone near you, you can't. There's just something about you, Merlin, there always has been. You cheer people up just by being around and I'm not the only one who misses you."

"You miss me? Really?"

Arthur bit his lip as his insides squirmed. He'd been hoping to get Merlin to admit to some feelings before he had to. However, with that slip, it was obvious he was going to have to go first...at least a bit.

"I thought we'd established that at the beginning of this conversation."

"Well, you never actually said so." However, the black-haired boy seemed pleased, a small smile curling up his luscious pink lips.

The Prince had been hoping that Merlin might volunteer a bit more but it seemed he was content to smile to himself for the moment and Arthur wasn't sure how much time they'd have before either Willhem or the King returned. How the hell do I get inside that head of his?

"Merlin, if you were allowed out and about, would you rather stay here with my father or, " he hesitated, took a deep breath and plunged on, "would you want to come back to me?"

He watched as Merlin bit his lip now and squirmed a bit in his chair. The boy took so long to answer that Arthur was certain he was trying to come up with a tactful way of telling the Prince that he was happier where he was. He felt the scald of disappointment pouring hot lead through his veins and he knew he was trembling all over. Oh God! He's in love with father!

So distressed was he that he didn't register Merlin's soft voice for a moment.

"I'd rather be your servant again. I just don't know if Uther, I mean the King will let me. He's a bit...possessive."

That was the third time Merlin had referred to the King by his first name before correcting himself. Arthur hated the sound of his father's name on those lips. He hated the intimacy it implied. Very few people were allowed to call the elder Pendragon by his given name yet it continued to fall automatically from Merlin's tongue.

"Really? I hadn't noticed." he snapped sarcastically in response to the warlock's massive understatement.

"Tell me Merlin. How did Dierdre fare in that tale of yours."

"It wasn't good. That's why she's known as 'Deirdre of the Sorrows'. She fell in love with a handsome young warrior who appeared to her in a dream. He had 'hair the color of the raven, skin as white as snow and lips as red as blood'. I always liked that part," he smiled that charmingly goofy grin of his before continuing . "Naoise was his name, the King's nephew. She managed to persuade Naoise to elope with her and his two brother's accompanied them in their flight. They were very happy until the King managed to track them down. He tricked them into returning by offering them his forgiveness but when they did return he had Naoise and his brother's killed. Dierdre died of a broken heart."

He looked up at Arthur when he was done. "I told you it didn't work out so well for poor Dierdre."

"Well, you're no maiden, father's not a mad Irish King and I'm not his nephew. I'm going to get you out of here."

"Arthur, no! I don't want to come between you and your father. It's not worth it."

"It is to me. I'll not sit by and let him lock you away like some damsel in a tower."

"Look, I've tried to get him to let me out more but he's as stubborn as you are."

"Exactly, he's not any better at it than I am. I'll out-stubborn him."

"Arthur! Why on earth would you fight with your father over a servant? Does it really matter who washes your royal socks?"

The prince looked at him solemnly. He reached out and lay a hand on one narrow, velvet clad shoulder.

"No. I don't care who washes my socks. It's the principle of the thing. He can't go locking up innocent people on a whim, it goes against everything he's ever taught me about what Camelot stands for."

"It's not like he's thrown me in the dungeon!"

"A gilded cage is still a cage, Merlin."

"And you both keep caged merlins, Arthur."

The prince tightened his grip on Merlin's shoulder.

"Damn it, you are not a bird! Even if you were, we at least let them out to fly. Father doesn't let you move from his chambers at all!"

The ivory skinned boy slumped in his chair. Coal black lashes shielded cobalt eyes as he cast them downward.

"No, he doesn't."

"Do you want to stay locked up in here as his sex-slave?"

Merlin's head whipped up, his face a picture of shock at Arthur's brutal summation of his situation. His pouty lips parted in a surprised "O", his pupils dilated until only a thin rim of jeweled iris showed, his ebony brows rose high enough to meet the inky-black fringe of his hair and his already milky cheeks paled further.

"Arthur!" he cried in horror at this description.

"Tell me that's not what he's made you into? He may not have you chained naked to the bed but you tell me how it's different?"

"I...I...I can't."

Now he was blushing furiously and hanging his head desperately avoiding Arthur's gaze.

"Oh God, Arthur, I don't want to talk about this with you."

"Why not?"

"Because it's humiliating!" Merlin shouted in frustration, throwing off the Prince's hand. "Do you think I want you thinking of me as your father's concubine? Like you don't already have a low enough opinion of me!"

He flung himself out of the chair and began to pace furiously across the room.

"Merlin, I don't blame you for this, I blame him."

"Well you shouldn't because I started this!"

Now Arthur's jaw dropped. He found his breath gone, his heart pounding so hard it felt as every beat must visibly jolt his body and the trembling was back. Merlin started it? Merlin?

"What do you mean, you started it?" The words were choked out of him.

"I didn't want to end up in the stocks again. I dropped the delivery from Gaius when I got here and the last time I did that, I wound up spending the following day locked up and being pelted with rotten produce! I...I just wanted to distract him a little, just enough to get me out of here without winding up in the damn stocks again."

Teeth clenched in unreasoning jealousy, Arthur demanded in a guttural tone, "And just how did you "distract" him Merlin?"

The sorcerer stopped pacing but remained rigid, facing away from the Prince. Arthur found his furious gaze resting on Merlin's taut buttocks so temptingly displayed in the snug leather breeches his father had clothed him in.

"I told you, Arthur. I don't want to discuss it with you."

Springing out of his chair, he stalked over to the silent sorcerer and spun him around to face him. He gripped the slim youth by his upper arms and shook him.

"Tell me what you did! Tell me!"

"Arthur! What the fuck is your problem?" He tried squirming out of the Prince's punishing grip.

"What the fuck is my problem? My problem? I've been sick for the past month thinking he'd raped you or coerced you or even seduced you and now you tell me that you fucking seduced him? Just to avoid a day in the bloody stocks!"

"I didn't actually think it would work."

"Why the hell would you think that? Look at you! Half the fucking castle wants in your God damned breeches!"

"You're being ridiculous, Arthur. No one wants in my breeches."

"I'm not ridiculous, you're blind! You are so fucking oblivious it's a wonder you've survived in the world this long!"

Before Merlin could speak again, Arthur pulled him up against his chest and covered his mouth with his own. The sorcerer went stiff in his hands for just a second before groaning and returning the kiss. When the Prince felt Merlin respond he quickly nudged the younger boys lips apart and slipped his tongue inside.

At that moment the doors to the chamber opened and the King strode inside, stopping dead at the sight of his son gripping his lover by the arms and ravaging his mouth within his own damned chambers! His jaw clenched.

"Arthur! Let. Him. Go. Now!"

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All comments are welcome! I'd just ask that you be polite about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before anyone feels the need to point out that they didn't wear socks in the Middle Ages, I'd like to point out that Gwen and Merlin had a conversation about washing Arthur's "royal socks" in Series 1, Episode 9. :D


	6. Titans Collide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait for an update. I was finishing up another story and then my Muse hijacked me for several one-shots. Also, I am not rushing this story because I really like it and I want to continue to do it justice. Thanks so much for sticking with me!

The King strode forward and physically shoved himself between his lover and his son. As Arthur's arms fell from Merlin's, Uther placed a hand flat to his heir's chest and roughly pushed him away. Then he pivoted and wrapped a trembling Merlin in his own embrace before turning back to the Crown Prince.

"How dare you? I expressly forbid you to enter this room! Not only do you disobey me but you assault my servant? Get out! Out! Guards! Get him out of here!"

"Your servant? Don't you mean your slave? Your fucking concubine? You hypocrite! We don't keep slaves in Camelot, how do you justify it you filthy, lying fraud? How do you sleep at night with a prisoner in your bed? How, Father, how?"

Arthur was screaming all this even as his father's guards were dragging him from the room.

"Confine him to the dungeon!"

"No! Please, Sire, please no!"

This last was Merlin who looked at the King with wide ocean blue eyes brimming with tears.

"I don't want to come between you! Please don't do this, Sire!"

"Shh, it's alright. It's all right, Love. It's not your fault. _He's_ the one who invaded my chambers defying a direct order to the contrary. _He's_ the one who assaulted you. I cannot let this go unpunished, Merlin."

The King held the shivering boy close to his chest and crooned softly in his ear, his hands rubbing gentle circles over Merlin's slender back and shoulders. The mage's quiet tears broke his heart and increased the rage burning in his chest toward his son. How dare he subject Merlin to this? Sweet, gentle, loyal Merlin who couldn't stand to be the cause of strife. Arthur might be his son but he wasn't going to allow him to think he could man-handle his lover and get away with it.

When he'd entered the room and seen Arthur's mouth covering Merlin's a spasm of the ugliest jealousy had clenched deep in his gut. Then there was rage when he saw that his son's hands were gripping the slender youth's upper arms in a punishing grasp, the pale black-haired boy bent backwards under the stronger man's bulk.

All his protective instincts had roared into life.

Even now with Merlin safe in his arms, the mage's stuttering sobs continued to heat the King's simmering anger. Uther would make his son pay for hurting his beloved.There was no question of that. However at the moment, his priority was caring for the traumatized boy in his embrace.

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Merlin was shattered. He had never, ever wanted to come between Arthur and his father and now the Prince was languishing in the dungeon and it was all his fault! Uther was lovingly doing his best to soothe his fractured composure but he couldn't seem to get his eyes to stop leaking. He could not fathom for all his life's blood why the two Royals would fight over him! He was nothing special, at least, nothing that either of them knew about. He was just a scrawny, pale peasant who was rotten at his job. What could possibly be motivating them?

Arthur, he thought he understood. (Well, he'd understood until the prat had kissed him, then he'd lost any grasp of the situation he might previously have held.) The Prince was an idealist. He believed in a fair and just Camelot and while he felt his father was holding an innocent as a prisoner, his chivalric ideation wouldn't allow him to do nothing. The fact it was a friend who was thusly detained would have made the Prince's need to intervene all the more urgent. However he felt Arthur would have challenged his father over any one of his people had he thought them subjected to such unlawful distress.

But then...why had he kissed him?

Before he could dwell further on the issue, there were a different set of lips settling gently against his mouth. Unlike Arthur's, these lips were almost as familiar to him as his own. Uther's dry palms were framing his jaw softly as his mouth moved smoothly against Merlin's. The mage let his eyes drift closed as he responded to that lightly inquisitive touch, reassuring even as he was being soothed in his turn.

His shaking began to fade and his tears eventually ceased falling as he allowed himself to be comforted by the King. Mouths entangled and breath exchanged. Uther was gently stroking the young mage over his back and torso. When he felt his trembling stop and some of his strength return, Merlin lifted his own long fingers to return his royal lover's gentle caresses.

The older man's experienced fingers soon had divested him of the soft doublet that clung to his lissome form and he lifted his arms cooperatively so he could be freed of the fine linen tunic beneath. He was unprepared for the hiss that escaped from between the King's lips when his skin was exposed. He opened passion glazed sapphire eyes to survey his lover only to find the man staring angrily at his arms. Merlin looked down and could clearly see the purple and black marks standing out in stark contrast to his snowy white skin. Where the bruises didn't criss-cross, the patterns made by blunt fingers were all too obvious. The ugly contusions reached from elbow to shoulder on both arms.

The sorcerer had been unaware of the damage until that moment and as he saw the cold light in the silvery gray eyes of the King he felt a thrill of apprehension.

"He didn't mean to!"

"It's alright. You don't have to defend him, you know. I'm very well aware he's not been entirely kind to you in the past."

"That's not fair! He never really abused me, he just likes to...tease, that's all. He wouldn't really hurt me."

Uther's hand came back to cup his cheek once again. A soft thumb stroked over one of those magnificent cheekbones.

"My darling boy, please...just stop. You can't justify his actions today. I know you don't want to be the cause of any grief, I understand. But you have nothing to worry over, you didn't do this."

"But now there's conflict between you and it's due to me."

"No, it really isn't, Love. It's because my son can't accept his limitations. He will learn to."

'Please, please don't punish him, he was...worried for me."

"So worried that he attacked you?"

"I...I don't...I don't know why he did that. He was so angry when..."

"When?"

"When...when...I told him that you hadn't started this, that I did. He wasn't...exactly...happy... before that...but that's when he grabbed me."

The King drew the unhappy boy back into his arms and kissed him.

"Merlin, I rather think it was easier, in his mind, for him to make me the villain in some sort of tragedy instead of dealing with this as an adult. You cannot blame yourself for his inability to respond to disappointments in a rational manner. If his failings are anyone's responsibility, they are mine. I've clearly indulged him too much."

"Sire, if I may? I think you've not indulged him enough. At least not in the way he's needed. You're so kind to me, can you not extend him some of that same kindness?"

Uther looked at the bruises on Merlin's silky pale skin and his mouth tightened.

"Perhaps."

Gray eyes met blue and when he saw the distress still present in that exquisite sapphire gaze the King deliberately shifted his focus toward erasing that distress. He traced the boy's astonishing bone structure with wondering fingertips, stunned all over again by the sheer beauty of that face. His bemused gaze took in eyes, skin, cheeks and lips which all came together to form the most amazing conjunction of features, to create an almost ethereal countenance. There was such an amazing contrast of colors present on that relatively small visage: alabaster skin, raspberry lips, lazuline eyes ringed by inky lashes and topped by ebony brows. He felt he could gaze on that face forever and never once cease to be entranced. He felt his mouth quirk up on one side as his roaming eyes fell on those adorable ears the boy seemed so self-conscious of.

Merlin couldn't see the appeal in those ears. Uther always thought they gave him a very elfin look, an impression that was strengthened whenever the boy flashed that impish smile of his. That smile that had captured his attention all those months ago, that smile that led to a preoccupation which turned into an obsession which in time thankfully led to this relationship. How he loved that smile.

For now though, those enticing berry hued lips were not smiling but were instead drawn into a pensive pout. Uther did not want to see that look on his lover's face a moment longer. He leaned in to kiss the expression away groaning softly when he felt the boy respond.

He resumed his quest to rid Merlin of his clothing and soon they were both naked, their bare skin meeting once again. He'd had the boy inside him only this morning but he hated to be without this contact for long. He reveled in the silky slide of that buttery velvet flesh against his own rougher skin. He slid his cock alongside his lovers and wrapped powerful fingers around them both. He leaned his forehead against the sorcerer's and concentrated on thrusting against the boy's magnificent flesh.

The young mage gasped then began to keen in pleasure at the hot drag of Uther's cock against his own. Somehow this simple act of loving was one he could never get enough of. Perhaps it was because they were both feeling the same sensations in these moments. In some ways it was far more intimate than fucking or being fucked. They shared the pleasure between them. Foreheads conjoined, lips hanging close, breath mingling in the small space between and of course their most sensitive flesh pressing tightly together. Both men were the exact same height and so the line was easy, natural, they simply fit.

Thrusting back, groaning at the feel of Uther's fingers around him, at Uther's hard silken flesh sliding against his own answering tumescence, sweat began to slick down their bodies and the slide against each other became even easier. The urgency built between them, matching gasp for gasp, they climbed higher in perfect sync. Merlin angled his head slightly and slotted their mouths together, mewling his pleasure directly into the King's mouth. He thrilled to hear the older man's answering groan. The rhythm began to stutter as they ground together as hard as they could, neither able to get enough of the other.

Merlin slid his hand down and encircled them both, joining his hand to Uther's and increasing the friction for them both. Their mouths broke apart only far enough to draw sufficient breath to keep up the increasingly frantic pace of their thrusts. They panted and gasped and mouthed at each other the whole while. The mage was keening, the King groaning, the slip and slap of skin on skin and the creaking of the bed beneath them formed a filthy-sweet symphony of heated lust, the soundtrack to their passion.

This time the King broke first, fountaining his release between them, coating their bellies in rope after rope of hot sticky cum. He continued to thrust through his orgasm, determined that his lover would follow soon after. Just as he began to soften he felt Merlin tense and then wail as his pleasure finally crested and his hot creamy seed spurted from his body with force. The white hot fountain reached as high as their chins and they both laughed breathlessly as the fluid dripped off the King's jaw to land back on the man from whom it had erupted.

With the last effort in him, Uther reached for a cloth on the table beside the bed. He wasn't sure if Willhem or Merlin himself had left it there but he was grateful for it's presence as he wiped the cooling jism from both their bodies. Finally he collapsed face down on the bed beside his lover and felt Merlin turn over to press himself against his side. He reached up and tangled his fingers in the boy's soft raven hair and pressed himself closer to that warm, slender body. He felt Merlin relax against him and knew his young paramour was asleep. He joined him in slumber for a while.

The King woke first as he usually did. He was on his side, having shifted in his sleep, and he was snugged up against Merlin's back. The big spoon in their slumbering configuration. He nuzzled the boy's neck knowing it wouldn't disturb him. The youth could probably sleep through an earthquake. He leaned up on one arm to look at his love. The sight that first met his eyes were the terrible bruises decorating the pale boy's arms. He knew part of the reason they looked so bad was Merlin's extreme coloring but they covered the skin of his upper arms so completely that he was unable to stop the tightening of his jaw. They looked truly terrible. Purple red mottled with black, they resembled nothing so much as ground meat.

He remembered the sight that had met his eyes when he'd returned to his chambers hours earlier. He'd been alerted that something was off by a page who delivered a message from his chamber guards. There was shouting coming from his inside his rooms but the only person that should have been in there was Merlin. Keeping in mind the monarch's injunction on any intrusion, the guards themselves were unable to investigate the ruckus.  
Clearly he'd have to modify those instructions to allow the guards to intercede more directly next time. They might have saved his lover the assault that the King had interrupted. However, he'd never have thought Arthur would go to the lengths of climbing down a rope to reach his chambers and the boy who dwelled within. He'd seriously underestimated his son's determination. He'd been right to keep Arthur away though, that much was obvious to him. His possessiveness toward his former servant was unabated. While Merlin may have been confused as to the source of his son's anger, Uther was not.

He'd suspected that his son was harboring a greater longing for the boy than the desire for simple friendship. It wasn't surprising to him that upon hearing that Merlin had chosen his father over him, Arthur had lost his tenuous hold on his infamous temper. However, to lay hands on the King's lover and attempt to sexually assault the lad; that is where his son had gone too far, leagues too far. Uther looked back down at the gentle youth he'd fallen for and vowed he'd teach his son a lesson about keeping his hands to himself.  
He slipped from the bed without waking Merlin and dressed. He suspected that his lover would sleep a while after the emotional storm he'd weathered. It was a good thing for he suspected that the boy would attempt to entreat his mercy on Arthur's behalf and he wasn't sure he wouldn't soften on hearing those pleas. It was better this way.

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the sleeping mage's forehead and then swiftly exited the chamber. He had an appointment in the dungeons.

______________________________________________________________________

 

Arthur managed to scramble to his feet before his father's bare fist slammed into his face. His nose exploded with pain as he felt it break. The impact slammed him back against the wall and he sagged there for a moment, eyes streaming tears even as blood began flowing from both nostrils. However, the King wasn't done and this time it was a back-handed blow to his unprotected cheek. His father's signet ring snagged in his skin before tearing through leaving a jagged laceration from just under the corner of his right eye across the high cheekbone almost to his nose.

"How dare you defy me like that you misbegotten cur! You keep your filthy hands to yourself from now on! You don't touch what doesn't belong to you."

The Prince's stunned inaction lasted only seconds before his own rage blazed to life and he grabbed the King by his tunic yanking the older man off balance while he brought a knee up into his father's gut. Uther grunted in surprised pain but was still able to swing another fist at his only son catching him on the left side of his face this time, snapping Arthur's head to the side while he reeled backwards trying to catch his breath.

The guards hovered uncertainly, unsure whether or not to intervene. The King was under attack but it was by Prince Arthur and he was simply fighting back. However, their liege did not call for their aid so they did nothing, only standing back and gaping at the spectacle of the battle between father and son. Surprisingly, despite Arthur's famous fighting prowess, it seemed the older man had the upper hand! That didn't last.

Uther backed away and panted through the nausea that followed having the breath knocked out of him. While he was attempting to regroup, Arthur charged him. One broad shoulder thumped into the ruler's solar plexus, once again knocking the wind out of him and this time taking him completely off his feet. They both went down in a tangle of sumptuous velvet, fine linen and butter soft doe-skin.

Arthur wound up on top of his father and arched back quickly, slamming a fist of his own downward to smash into his father's face. Uther flinched away at the last moment and the blow grazed off the side of his cheek rather than landing full in the face as his own first blow to the Prince had. Looking down into his father's reddened, angry face, Arthur really snapped.

He wrapped his fingers around the King's throat and began to throttle him, squeezing with all his might and bringing the man's head up from the ground only to slam him back against the stone floor with a sickening crack.

Now the guards leapt in to intervene. A fist fight was one thing but the Prince had now latched on to the King with mortal intent. They could not stand by and let their monarch die before them at the hands of his own son.

They hauled the young Prince off with great difficulty.

"Let me go, let me go! Now!"

The two guards holding him had no intention of obeying while they sought out their King on the floor with anxious eyes.

"Sire! Sire, are you all right?"

"I'm fine" came the answer in a less than dignified croak. Uther hauled himself to his feet and shook his throbbing head in an attempt to clear it.

"You coward! You lousy hypocrite!"

"Silence him."

One of the guards slapped a hand over the Prince's mouth muffling the epithets that continued to spew forth unabated.

"If you were any other knight in this Kingdom I would have have you flogged for your actions today Arthur. Were you anyone else, I'd see you hanged. You unlawfully invaded my private chambers and assaulted a member of my personal staff."

At Uther's description of Merlin, Arthur began to fight harder, his muffled shouts growing in intensity.

"Since you are the Crown Prince and my son, I will simply leave you here until you have learned some manners and apologize for your actions."

Arthur nearly succeeded in breaking free from his captors this time so they forced him down to his knees once they regained control of the furiously struggling Royal.

"Send word via the guards when you are prepared to beg for forgiveness both from me and from Merlin. He's wrecked you know. His arms are black and blue from elbow to shoulder. He couldn't stop shaking and crying for a long time after you left. I won't ever let you hurt him again! You've done him enough damage. You _will_ leave him alone from now on."

To the guards he said, "You will, neither of you, speak of what happened here today to any soul living or you will _both_ pay with your lives. Are we clear on that?"

"Yes, Sire!" they chorused together. Both guards had served for years, they knew how to keep silent though neither had ever witnessed anything so astounding in their lives as what they'd seen and heard today. They of course were both familiar with Merlin. He'd been a semi-regular visitor to their post since his arrival in Camelot. Either as a visitor or less frequently as a temporary "guest".

Like every other denizen of the castle they too had been aware of the rumors that the King had taken the boy as his lover. However, to actually watch the two Royals brawling and learn the cause of the rift was that sweet young lad; it was...well, it was beyond shocking. Though they both agreed later that it shouldn't really have been such a surprise. After all, they had hosted the Prince here on Merlin's behalf before. There would be much quiet speculation between both men during that long night.

For the moment they continued to wrangle the uncooperative young Royal until his father had departed. As soon as Uther was gone, all the fight went out of their prisoner and they carefully released him before backing out of the cell, apologies falling from their lips. It would never do for them to be in the Crown Prince's black books permanently.

As the door slammed shut with a clang, Arthur sagged down to the floor, laying on his stomach. He was shaking with suppressed rage. His jaw clenched so tight that it hurt. His nose and cheek throbbed and he could feel several trickles of blood sluggishly tracking down the skin of his face. His only satisfaction came from knowing he'd managed to hurt his father at least as badly as he'd been hurt. On a physical level that was. Emotionally, there was no contest.

He was in the dungeon, alone. Uther was in the palace with Merlin. The King was victorious. Arthur regretted upsetting the younger boy and he was deeply remorseful for hurting him but he could never regret kissing him. Merlin had kissed him _back_. That was worth a stint in the cells.

Arthur wondered how long it would take the tyrant to release him for he had no intention of ever begging that man's forgiveness. He'd readily apologize and more to his friend but to Uther? Not a chance.

Looking around the cell he decided to make the best of it. His father was a stubborn man. He'd no doubt be here for at least a few weeks. It was possible that it might be months. Morgana would no doubt do her best to shame Uther into releasing him but it would take a lot of time and effort. He'd never seen his father so angry with him. The feeling was entirely mutual.

He could still feel the King's throat in his hands and it still felt good. There were no pangs of conscience over that. He'd been longing to choke the man ever since he'd snatched Merlin from his arms and wrapped the boy up in his own in such a proprietary and protective manner. He'd acted as if it was _Arthur_ the boy needed defending from! He wasn't the one holding the servant hostage!

His anger simmered. He couldn't get the picture of Merlin shivering in Uther's embrace out of his mind. He'd been holding the boy's face against his chest with one hand, the other roaming over the shaky youth's back as the Prince was dragged from the room, literally kicking and screaming. He'd desperately wanted to see Merlin's face but the King had hoarded it away from him, just like he'd stolen the younger boy from him months ago. He was holding the sun captive and Arthur's empty sky was screaming for it's return.

When Gaius turned up in his cell a few hours later he wasn't surprised but he _was_ grateful. His face was throbbing quite sickeningly and his nose was very swollen. There was no breathing through the edematous tissue. The cut to his cheek wouldn't stop bleeding either. It wasn't exactly gushing with blood but the constant trickle was an annoyance he could live without.

"I do apologize, my Lord. I was out on my rounds when...er...your injury occurred and I've only just now left the King."

"Did you see Merlin?"

"Yes, your father insisted on it." Before Arthur could even ask, Gaius held up one weathered hand and said, "He's fine, just bruised. He's a quick healer, I'd wager you won't even be able to _see_ the marks in a few days. The King was not so fortunate. You really did a number on him, Sire. He's got a lump the size of a duck's egg on the back of his skull and his throat is quite swollen."

"Good! I'm delighted to hear it. I am sorry about Merlin, though. I never intended to harm him."

"He'll be fine, he's had worse from a day in the stocks, m'lord."

Arthur winced at that for he knew that Merlin usually landed in the stocks as a result of something _he_ did rather than through any fault of the servant's.

"I was grateful to get to see him though, so don't regret a few bruises."

"He's stolen him away from you as well as me, hasn't he Gaius? Morgana says it's as if he plucked the sun from the sky and left the whole palace in darkness."

"Does she, Sire? I suppose it has been rather gloomy without him stumbling about the place. He's a good lad, I do sorely miss having him around."

"You and me both, Gaius, you and me both."

The physician busied himself with cleansing the wound to Arthur's cheek before producing a needle and silk thread. The prince merely tilted his head to the side to give the old healer better access to the wound. It wasn't the first time Gaius had needed to sew up an injury for him. It was painful but at least the annoying trickle of blood ceased. Setting his nose was a different matter. There was a swift tug then a blinding flash of pure agony that turned the world white for several long seconds.

"That should heal up straight, Sire and as long as we keep that cut clean, it should heal with little to no scarring."

"Thank you Gaius, I appreciate your help."

"There's a bit more." The old man was holding out a small bottle towards him. The contents were a sickly yellow-green colour and looked to have the consistency of spit.

"It will help with the pain. Two swallows no more than once every four hours. I'll come back again tomorrow with more. I'll check on that cut at the same time. Is there anything else I can do for you, my lord?"

"Figure out a way to get Merlin away from Father?"

"I'm working on it, Sire. I truly am."

"Thank you, Gaius. That's all I want."

"Good night, my Lord."

"Good night, Gaius."  


  
_______________________________________________________________________________

Thanks for reading! All comments are welcome, I just ask that you be polite.


	7. Of Family and Conspiracy

As the fire of his anger died back to embers, Arthur's mind turned from his father back to Merlin. He couldn't help returning to what had passed between them just before that kiss...that kiss, _Merlin had kissed him back_! Merlin had kissed him back moments after telling him that he'd seduced his father. _Merlin_ had done the seducing, not Uther. Uther hadn't stolen him away, Merlin had _gone_ to the King. Well, sort of.

 _"I started this!"_

 _"I didn't want to end up in the stocks again. I...I just wanted to distract him a little, just enough to let me out of here without winding up in the damn stocks again."_

 _"I didn't actually think it would work."_

Arthur snorted weakly. He still found it astounding that Merlin _didn't think it would work._ Had the boy _ever_ looked in a mirror? It didn't change things, though. Merlin had been the instigator in his relationship with the King. Could Arthur really blame Uther for taking what Merlin offered? Jealousy knifed through his guts, twisting hot and ugly. _He never offered it to me...he's never so much as flirted with me..._

Somehow he'd never actually entertained the idea that Merlin may have chosen to become involved with Uther. Then again, had he really?

 _"I didn't actually think it would work."_

Merlin had said he'd rather be Arthur's servant, he _didn't_ say he'd rather be Arthur's lover. Upon reflection, his biggest complaint seemed to be Uther's possessiveness, his confinement to the King's chambers. He certainly never said he didn't _want_ Uther. But... _he kissed me back!_ Surely that had to mean something...didn’t it?

He curled up in the straw and desperately tried to banish images of Merlin wantonly seducing his father, writhing beneath him on fine sheets, engulfing him with those luscious lips...

He groaned loudly and felt sick . Had there been anything in his stomach, he’d have lost it in the straw. He didn’t want to feel like this , didn’t want to hurt like this but still, the images remained to taunt him.

 _I started this._

_____________________________________________

Much to his surprise, when Merlin requested to be allowed to resume assisting Gaius, Uther had acquiesced. Several days had passed since the incident with Arthur and Gaius had visited the King's chambers no less than 5 times in the interim. Each brief session had brought home to the young mage just how much he missed the old man's company and counsel. Willhem had been the one to suggest to Merlin that he ask Uther for the boon.

Of course there were stipulations. Three mornings a week to begin with and Merlin mustn't leave the environs of the upper town. He was _not_ to accompany Gaius into any of the rougher areas of Camelot. Public gathering places, aside from the market were also off-limits. No visits to anyone suffering from contagion and there had even been a list of _nobles_ who were to be avoided as well. _That_ list was a mystery to Merlin who couldn’t know that it consisted entirely of men and women that had displayed a visible interest in the young manservant in the past.

Naturally the dungeons were entirely out-of-bounds. Uther would not have Merlin anywhere near his son. He'd been tempted to forbid the young man any interaction with Arthur's knights as well but in the end, he only included a few of them on the list of nobles his young paramour was not to engage. Those few were either very close to Arthur or they had foolishly eyed the youth with hungry stares during the long months before the King was able to make Merlin his own. The elder Pendragon had a long and pitilessly clear memory.

Uther had also come very close to including Morgana in the ban but had silently conceded that such a move would be pushing things a bit too far. First, she clearly had no romantic designs on the boy and such an order would have been pointless anyway. She would not have obeyed the decree under any circumstances. She was extremely fond of Merlin and unlike the rest of the Kingdom, she didn't truly fear Uther's wrath. In fact, now that Arthur was out of the picture, he had resumed inviting Morgana to dine with him several nights a week and he'd allowed Merlin to serve at these suppers.

 _If_ he occasionally pulled the young man into the seat beside him and fed him from his own plate, it was never mentioned. Though Morgana gave the two many a speculative glance, she wisely refrained from commentary or indeed from any sort of overt reaction at all. She'd simply carry on conversing with them both as if it was an entirely normal occurrence to observe the King surreptitiously caress his manservant while the boy poured wine and arranged platters. Even when Merlin decorously stood behind the King, she addressed him as if he was seated at table with them. After a few of these awkward meals, Uther simply tugged Merlin into that seat by his side and kept him there. From that moment on, the young man joined them at table as if he'd always been there.

Though she remained equanimous on the surface, Morgana was secretly stunned to observe Uther's tender and indulgent behavior toward Merlin. She'd never seen him treat _anyone_ with such affection before. That it was a mop-haired, sweet-faced young servant that should be so favoured was doubly astonishing. Though in retrospect, it really shouldn't be. Merlin was so far removed from the average servant it was almost an absurdity. There wasn't a subservient bone in the lad's lanky body. However, there was much more than cheeky impudence to the indomitably sunny boy. He'd somehow managed to humanize Arthur to such an extent that the Prince was almost _likable_ these days. That was not a feat to be taken lightly. That he also seemed to bring out Uther's hitherto unseen soft side shouldn't really be any more surprising. For the first time Morgana began to wonder if perhaps the unlikely relationship _was_ after all, a good thing.

It all depended on what Merlin thought of it.

She was finally able to corral the young man himself a few weeks into Arthur's detainment. She'd seen him on multiple occasions of course but there had been no opportunity for a private chat. When he turned up at her room with a supply of her usual sleeping draught from Gaius, she seized the chance to yank him into her chamber and shut the door on the world.  
Finally, she could interrogate him alone!

"Merlin! Finally! Come, sit. I've been dying to speak with you for months."

"But you've spoken with me at least five times this week, milady."  
"Morgana. You certainly have no need to address me as 'milady' these days. And I've been able to exchange pleasantries with you certainly but we've not been able to _talk_ since you took up with Uther."

Merlin blushed a deep rose and the young noblewoman smiled at him. He really _was_ adorably unaffected. How did he manage that while shtuping the King?

"Tell me something, Merlin. How do you feel about him?"

"About who?"

"Uther!"

"Ah, um...well, he, I mean...he's...been extremely kind to me?"

"You don't sound sure of that. Has he been unkind...in any way?"

"No, No! Not at all, I mean he _is_ extremely kind to me."

"Do you love him?"

Wide eyes, blue as the sea itself gazed at her rather haplessly. He didn't seem to know how to answer the question.

"I ask because...well, I can see he loves _you_ but I think perhaps there is someone who means a bit more to you than Uther does. Am I mistaken?"

His rose dusted cheeks were suddenly washed a painful scarlet and it was enough to give her the answer she sought.

"You know he feels the same way about you, don't you?"

"He said...has...has he...said that?"

Pursing her lips, Morgana forced herself to be truthful with her friend.

"No, not as such, at least, not in so many words anyway. However, I've been with him since you went missing and I know it's the truth. He's been beside himself. Not eating, not sleeping properly, skipping training sessions as often as he attends, spending all his time lurking outside the Kings chambers."

That wide gaze was centered on her's again, wondering.

"Seriously? He's been missing training? He never does that!"

"Exactly. Don't think no one's noticed. Uther seems to be doing very well lately but Arthur...well frankly, Arthur's been a mess."

"He looked so...ill...he looked so _tired_ when I saw him. I thought he must have been fevered, was shocked he was out of bed looking like that."

"I rather doubt weeks in the dungeon have seen any improvement there."

"Gods, Morgana! How long do you think Uther's going to keep him there?"

"I wish I knew. I've never known Arthur to defy him like that, except the time he rode off to get that flower when you drank poison for him. He only left him down there a week for that incident but Uther wasn't so invested at the time. I've no precedent to compare this to. There's no telling what Uther will do now. Maybe you could talk him round? He'll not listen to me."

"I tried Morgana, honestly, I've tried again and again. He's adamant that Arthur apologize before he'll release him."

She somehow managed to snort elegantly.

"Not bloody likely, the mood he's in!"

"I know, they are both so stubborn!"

They fell quiet for several long moments then Merlin began speaking hesitantly.

"I...I want to see him but the King has forbidden me to go anywhere near the dungeon. I miss him, Morgana. I miss him so badly. We didn't have much time to talk the last time and...we wound up arguing. He was so angry with me. I think he must hate me now."

"I doubt that Merlin. It's Uther he'll be hating right now."

"After what I told him, I think it must be me."

"What was that?"

The blush was back again, the miserable red splotching his face and neck. He took a deep breath.

"I told him it was me who seduced the King, not the other way round."

"What?"

Another feat for Merlin, he'd managed to shock _Morgana_ into silence.  
He nodded and wouldn't meet her eyes.

"It's the truth. He...well...I...um, I mean, I...touched him...first."

"Oh Merlin! What were you thinking?"

"I wasn't! I mean, I didn't think he'd _want_ me, I was just trying to distract him."

"What on earth from?"

And so Merlin spilled what he could of the sorry tale, beginning with that fateful fumbling of Uther's "draught" and ending with Arthur's aborted kiss in the King's bedchamber. Prudently, he kept the magic to himself. He wasn't crying when he was done but his eyes were heavily distressed as he finished his story.

"I don't know what to do, Morgana." He whispered the words.

For the first time in a long time, the King's feisty ward had nothing to offer, no advice to give. Merlin had managed to tangle himself in an impossible knot. She could see its beginning but not its end. Was there a way to even start to unravel this mess? There had to be. So she hugged him and tried to think of a solution.

________________________________________

Morning sun was slanting in from the window high above the Prince’s head when first he heard it.

"Arthur?"

The harsh whisper echoed down from above his head.

"Arthur!"

This time there was the hint of a voice in the muted sound.

"Merlin?"

"Yes!"

"Merlin! How did you get out?"

"Uther's been letting me assist Gaius a few mornings here and there. I’d have come to see you before but we just figured out what cell you were in."

"We?"

"Morgana and I."

"Oh Lord, you're working with Morgana? I'm doomed."

"I heard that you supercilious prat."

"Morgana?"

"In the flesh."

"What are you two up to?"

"Well, we thought since you've had no visitors since you've been down there, you might care for some company. Clearly we were mistaken. Come on Merlin, let's go."

"No, wait!”

Slender, impossibly long fingers reached through the grate on the window above. When they waggled aimlessly in his general direction, Arthur couldn’t help but smile. _His_ idiot.

“Merlin...are...are you alright? I mean, Father...he didn’t...do...anything to you, did he?”

“I’m fine, Arthur. The two of you were the only injured parties.”

Letting out a quiet sigh of relief, the Prince felt the release of an anxiety he hadn’t even been aware of until just that moment.

“Merlin...I...”

He didn’t get the chance to say more. There was a scrabbling sound above and a hiss from Morgana.

“We have to go!”

And go they did, disappearing as suddenly as they’d materialized. Still, Arthur felt his heart lift. Clearly Merlin wasn’t angry with him. He wasn’t angry and he’d defied the King’s orders to speak with him!

 _Surely_ that meant something, didn’t it?

________________________________________

On his way back to Gaius’ workroom with a pail of fresh water, Merlin thought he spied a dearly familiar face in the constantly shifting stream of bodies criss-crossing the central square.

“Mother?”

He drew closer, thrilled to see it _was_ his mother. Hunith lit up when her eyes landed on her son. Rushing forward, her arms lifted to enfold him, she almost sobbed out his name.

“Merlin!”

He drew back from her frantic embrace, upset by the obvious bruising he could see her beloved careworn face. His mother was one of the most gentle, giving people he’d ever known, who could ever want to hurt her?

He lifted a careful hand and caressed the air beside the contused flesh. “What happened?” She averted her deep blue eyes. “Who did this to you?”

“Kanen came back.”

“Kanen? But he hasn’t troubled Ealdor since I was a boy!”

“He showed up a few weeks ago and threatened Matthew. Said he’d return for the harvest and if we didn’t give it _all_ to him, he’d slaughter us down to the last woman and child in the village.”

Tears ran in silver rivulets, tracking down the worn loveliness of her cheeks. Merlin had never been able to bear to see her cry. His mother was an incredibly strong woman and had never been prone to displays of weakness. For her to shed tears, the situation must be truly desperate. He gathered her in his arms and held her close. She lay her head against his chest and continued to speak.

“King Cenred cares naught for the border villages so I’ve come to beg help from your King.”

“He’ll see you today Mother, I’ll make sure of it.”

She drew back to look up into his face, smiling.

“Is your position so lofty you can guarantee me an immediate audience with the King of Camelot himself?”

She meant her words teasingly and was surprised by her son’s furious blush. His reply was no less astonishing.

“It is.”

________________________________________

Uther consented to see his mother without hesitation as Merlin knew he would. However, to his surprise, the King wanted to speak with her in private, rather than in council.

He fetched his mother from Gaius’ rooms and escorted her to the private audience chamber.

Hunith told her tale to the King with slow, eloquent words. Falling gracefully to her knees, she begged him for help. Her speech was moving and persuasive but when Merlin lifted his eyes to Uther’s he could read the apology there. Even before he spoke, the mage knew what his answer would be.

“I’m so sorry for everything you’ve had to endure. Please, don’t think I feel nothing for your plight but I can _not_ send aid. Any action on my part would be seen as an act of war by King Cenred and he would retaliate by attacking my kingdom. For far too long, he’s been spoiling for a fight and he would not hesitate to use any excuse he could to start a war.”

Hunith’s face fell but even humbled on the chamber floor she retained her dignity, as always.

“Thank you for your time, Sire. I understand your position and though I am disappointed I am very grateful that you granted me this audience on such short notice.”

Merlin marveled at his mother’s composure in the presence of royalty. She had better manners than most of the nobles he’d observed in his time at Camelot’s court. He’d always known his mother was far better educated and well-spoken than the average peasant but it had never been more apparent than it was in this moment. He had to wonder, certainly not for the first time, what his mother’s life had been like before he was born. She’d always refused to discuss it, just as she’d refused to discuss his father with him. Always she brushed his inquiries aside stating that the past firmly belonged there and only the present and future counted for anything.

He was distracted from his speculations when Uther began to speak once more.

“You are welcome to stay in Camelot. Your son has proven himself invaluable to me and I would be only too happy for you to make your home here as well. You need not return and face this perilous threat. You’ll be well cared for and protected if you but choose to remain here. I’m sure it would greatly please Merlin as well.”

Cornflower blue eyes sought Hunith’s gaze beseechingly.

“Please, Mother. Stay. I can’t bear the thought of you going home with no one to protect you.”

She smiled at her son, gentle and warm but she addressed her response to his King.

“Thank you again, Sire but I’m afraid I must decline. I can’t abandon my friends to their fate. I must return at once to see what we may do to help ourselves.”

Uther inclined his head in acknowledgement.

“The offer stands open should you ever change your mind. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have many other affairs of state I must attend to. Merlin? Stay and visit with your mother. You can attend to your...duties later on.”

“Thank you, Sire.”

Merlin accompanied his mother back to Gaius’ rooms. On their way, they encountered Morgana who insisted on joining them.

“I heard Uther had granted your mother a private audience and...”

“And couldn’t contain your curiosity?”

“Something like that you cheeky brat! So, I gather something is wrong?”

“You could say that.”

He retold his mother’s tale as they paced the empty echoing halls of white stone. She listened with growing sympathy as the grim story unfolded. When he mentioned the King’s refusal of his mother’s request for help, a soft sound of surprise escaped her lips.

“He wouldn’t send help, even for you?”

Hunith’s sharp gaze shifted to her son and he squirmed slightly as they reached the door to the physician’s quarters. He shot a warning look at Morgana and pushed the simple wooden portal open.

“What does she mean? Merlin? Why ‘not even for you’?”

“It’s nothing, Mother. She just means Uther’s remained grateful that I saved the Prince’s life. Twice.”

“Yes, he’s very grateful for Merlin.”

The smile was evident in Morgana’s voice but she said no more on the subject and Merlin was thankful for it. Instead she asked him to meet with her and Gwen in the South garden in an hour.

“I think I may have some ideas that could help you and your village but I need to make some inquiries first.”

Merlin took the time to persuade his mother to at least stay the night in Camelot before returning to Ealdor. She was reluctant, eager to get back home as fast as her feet could carry her. He pointed out that she had been willing to wait for an audience so this delay couldn’t really be cutting into her plans. Eventually she capitulated and he went to meet with Morgana and Gwen.

He spotted them as soon as he entered the garden. They were sharing a cozy bench beneath the bronzing leaves of an ornamental tree readying itself for the coming winter.

“So I assume you’re planning on slipping your leash and returning to Ealdor with your mother.”

“Uh..well...I mean...Uther...the King, he won’t...”

“Relax, Merlin. _I’m_ not about to tell him anything. I just want you to know we’re coming with you. Both of us. I think I can also persuade Arthur to join us on this little venture.”

She looked unbearably smug as his mouth flopped open.

“Why...how?”

It was Gwen who answered this time.

“You’re going to need all the help you can get. I can mend armour and sharpen swords.”

Morgana looked determined. “And I know how to fight.”

“But you can’t! I mean, why would you?” His bewilderment was genuine.

”If it was the other way round, you’d help us. You already have. You saved my life.” Earnest brown eyes held his.

“And you helped me get the Druid boy out of Camelot We owe it to you, both of us.” Morgana’s voice was steady and sincere. “Now we just have to break Arthur out of prison and we’ll be all set to go.”

“How on earth do you plan on doing that?”

“It’s simple. I’ll drug the guards and steal the keys!”

“Morgana! If Uther finds out he’ll kill you!”

“Oh I’ve no doubt he’ll find out but we’ll be well away by the time he does. I just need you to get me the fastest working sleep draught Gaius has, can you do that?”

Caught up in furious thought, Merlin didn’t answer right away. He had no desire to see Morgana on the outs with Uther but if the girls were insisting on accompanying him, he knew they’d need Arthur. It was somewhat infuriating because he knew that they meant well but their presence would make it impossible for him to defend the village with his magic. He knew there was no dissuading Morgana once her mind was made up. There was nothing for it, both women were coming whether he liked it or not. If there was no way to go alone then there was no choice, they needed the Prince’s help.

Finally, reluctantly he agreed to procure the draught. The plan was a remarkably simple one. Morgana would free Arthur that night and they’d leave with Gwen immediately thereafter. Merlin and Hunith would leave in the morning when Merlin was usually working with Gaius. With any luck, the warlock wouldn’t be missed for hours.

As Merlin lay in the King’s arms that night, he contemplated Uther’s possible reactions to what lay ahead. He’d be furious, that was a given. He was almost frightened for Arthur and Morgana. The King didn’t take kindly to disobedience or even simple insubordination from either his son or his ward. As for what Uther would do to Merlin, he honestly couldn’t predict. In all their time together, Merlin had been too frightened to disobey his lover. He’d stuck to the King’s chambers despite his unhappiness with the confinement. When he’d finally been allowed to leave his gilded cage, he’d followed Uther’s rules to the letter, scared that any deviation would result in his freedom being curtailed once again.

He was about to flout a direct order from Uther that he not leave the castle’s immediate environs under any circumstance. Merlin had no doubts there would be consequences for him. If the King went berserk when ignored by his own son, how much angrier would he be when a lowly peasant defied him?

When Uther woke him with need several hours later, Merlin couldn’t help the desperate edge that crept into the act. He clung tightly to his lover as he welcomed him into his body. Naturally, the King noticed his fervor but thankfully misinterpreted it’s cause.

“Mmmm...missed you today. See you did too.”

Merlin simply nodded and clung all the more tightly, apologizing silently for what he was about to do to this man. Uther was far from perfect, was in fact a deeply flawed man but he’d been good to Merlin in his way. The soft-hearted warlock didn’t like the idea of hurting him and it was clear from the man’s over-protective stances that he _would_ be hurt by Merlin’s defection. Oh he’d be angry as well but most of that rage would be fueled by the pain of betrayal.

When they were both spent, Merlin didn’t allow Uther to move away, pulling his lover down on top of him instead. He didn’t mind the weight, needing it in some strange way. He didn’t love Uther, there was no way he ever could, but he’d come to feel a great deal of sympathy for the man as he knew him better. The King was more than a little broken and clearly had been for years. He was like a patchwork of a man and not all the patches fit properly. It was as if he’d been shattered then home mended by an apprentice craftsman bereft of tools.

Ever ready to cuddle, Uther seemed content to wrap his arms around Merlin and hold him close. Nuzzling the long neck, nibbling his way across enticing collar bones and swirling his tongue in the hollow nestled between them. He inhaled deeply. He’d once told Merlin how “addicted” he was to the young man’s scent. It seemed he was once again indulging his addiction while murmuring many of his usual post-coital thoughts.

“You have the most incredible skin. So soft, so so soft _everywhere_. I’ve never felt its like before. You know you almost glow? Such a sheen, luminous...that’s what it is...luminous. I used to go crazy imagining what you’d feel like, what all that pretty, pearly skin would feel like under my hands. Now I know and it makes me even crazier. It’s so hard to let you go when I have duties to attend. If I could, I’d keep you wrapped around me all day long.”

It wasn’t anything different from what Uther often whispered in his ear but for some reason it struck a chill in Merlin’s heart that night. Uther’s confession of feeling “crazy” hit him hard for it was nothing less than the truth. The King appeared strong and grounded but on the inside he was anything but. It was simply an act for his people, for his family and subordinates. Merlin was close to him in a way no one else ever had been. That included his deceased wife for she knew a different Uther, a healthy man with his emotions intact.

What would _this_ man do to a lover who betrayed his trust? Merlin was frightened to find out but he wouldn’t let it stop him. His mother was more important to him than anyone. Far more important than any punishment the King might mete out against him. It wasn’t something he needed to worry about at the moment. He intended to stay with his mother indefinitely. Clearly she needed him and he had no intention of abandoning her. Still, sleep claimed a restless mind that night when it blanketed Merlin’s consciousness.

The warning bell didn’t sound until the dawn watch. It would seem Gaius’ sleeping draught had done it’s job well. He prayed his three friends were well away from Camelot by now. Uther flung himself out of bed with the first chiming and told Merlin to stay put while he hurried into his clothes.

The King returned a few minutes later vibrating with rage.

“Arthur’s escaped and Morgana is the one who let him out!”

Merlin didn’t even attempt to dissemble, knowing what a poor liar he was. Instead he simply stared at Uther with wide, apprehensive eyes. He didn’t have to fake the fear, it was all his own. Thankfully, the King misinterpreted it’s cause and made a visible effort to calm himself.

“It’s alright, Love. He will not be allowed to touch you. The guards are searching the castle as we speak. I doubt they’ll find him. I don’t think he would have escaped only to wander the halls up here. He may have some hare-brained scheme to get to you, though. I can’t be sure until the search is complete. I want you to stay here today, alright? I don’t think I’ll be able to get away until later but I’ll be easier in my mind if I know you are here. Safe.”

Unable to speak the lie, the warlock simply nodded in vague assent. It was enough for the King who kissed him deeply before sweeping from the room. Merlin rose on shaky legs and dressed in the plainest clothing he now possessed. He looked regretfully at the warm woolen cloak and the long fur-lined coat but taking either would raise the suspicions of the guards outside Uther’s door. A thick doublet of wool and leather would have to suffice for the journey.

He slipped from the King’s chambers as if it was any other morning. He hoped against hope that in his haste, Uther would have forgotten to inform his chamber guards that Merlin wasn’t to leave. When neither batted an eyelash at his departure, he released a small puff of a sigh. He fetched his mother from Gaius’ quarters as quickly as he was able. After giving the old man a heartfelt hug, the two departed as quietly as possible. When they approached the pair of guards standing watch at the castle gates, they waited for a small disturbance in the square beyond to distract the guards. Tugging Hunith behind him, they skulked past the sentries unseen. Now there were just the gates to the upper town to get through. This time, he sent her ahead of him and with eyes downcast to hide the flash, he froze time in its track. After that it was a simple matter of walking out into the town before letting the flow of time resume.

Knowing they had, at best, a few hours before he was missed, Merlin hurried his mother as much as possible. She complied but after the skulduggery of their departure, she was demanding answers.

“Merlin, what is going on? Why did you have to _sneak_ past the guards to leave with me? Are you under some kind of house arrest or something? Did it have to do with the bells this morning? What have you done?”

“Nothing! I swear, it’s not like that.”

“Then what is it? Arthur can’t be such a harsh master that he won’t allow you to go into town...is he?”

“No, Arthur’s not like that.”

“Then what on earth is going on? Is it me? Did I offend the King with my request?”

“What? No! Of course not. The King was genuinely sorry he couldn’t help.”

“Then please, please tell me what’s going on. You’ve never hidden things from me before and it’s frightening me that you are now. What’s happened to you, my boy? What is so terrible that you can’t confide in me?”

“It’s not terrible...it’s...it’s...”

He was blushing scarlet now. He could feel the heat spreading over his face and crawling up his neck to singe his ears red. How did you tell your own mother that you were making the two backed beast with the King of Camelot? Gaius had been bad enough but this was his mother!

“It’s what, sweetheart?”

“Embarrassing!” He blurted the word.

“Oh, my boy! This is me, your mother. If you can’t share your embarrassing moments with me, then who can you share them with? Please tell me. I’m sure my imagination is far worse than reality.”

They were cresting the hill that overlooked the city now. Both of them hardened to a pied-à-terre mode of travel, they were making excellent time. Merlin kept his flushed face down, his eyes trained on the ground in front of his feet.

“Please, Merlin. Tell me.”

So, haltingly, he did. Since she knew of his magic, he didn’t have to give her the edited version he’d delivered to both Arthur and Morgana. His mother listened without comment, a look of gentle concern on her face as he finished.

“And well, Uther is very kind to me but he’s also extremely protective. Even more so since Arthur broke into his chambers to see me. I can’t even imagine what he’ll do when he finds I’m missing. If he discovers Arthur is involved...” He just shook his head in confusion.

“Oh Merlin! How do you get yourself into these situations?”

She stopped him long enough to pull him into a warm embrace.

“I was right though. My imagination was far worse than the reality.”

They both chuckled and continued walking.

“You’re not ashamed of me, then?”

“Merlin, I could never be ashamed of you. You have such a loving, giving heart...I know you must have felt truly desperate to do what you did. But tell me...do you... _care_ for the King?”

He contemplated the question in the harsh light of day. Did he care for Uther? He took his time answering the question.

“I care _about_ him but I don’t care for him in the way you mean. He’s been kind to me, yes but he’s not who I’d have chosen for myself. No matter the perks!”

He shot her a cheeky grin and a wink with the last bit and she smiled in return.

“I think you should tell him that, Merlin. If he cares for you, he’ll understand and let you go.”

“I...I’ll...think about it.”

They met up with the others a few hours later. In typical fashion _he_ found amusing, Arthur snuck up behind them and prodded Merlin in the back with the point of his sword. The mage froze, ready to blast his attacker with a burst of power when he heard the Prince’s voice.

“I’d ask you for money but I know you don’t have any.”

Merlin spun around, his joy bright and shining at finally seeing Arthur after so many weeks of separation.

“Arthur! You came!”

Hunith visibly relaxed as the stocky blond man pulled her slender son into a hearty embrace.

“Think I’d miss out on a chance to dispatch some scruffy brigands? Do you know me?”

Sapphire met cerulean as they locked gazes.

“I hope I do.”

Arthur cleared his throat and stepped back, releasing Merlin as he did so. He turned to Hunith and bowed.

“You must be Merlin’s mother, though don’t worry I’ll hold that against you. I’m Arthur.”

“Your Highness.”

She dipped a small curtsy and smiled up at him with Merlin’s eyes.

“I understand you broke out of prison to help us. I’m most grateful.”

“It’s nothing. Can’t have your idiot son blundering about the countryside with no one but my father’s crazy ward and her maidservant for company, now can I?”

A sharp blow to the Prince’s head was administered by said “crazy ward”.

“See what I mean? Completely insane.”

“Yeah, see if I ever rescue you again! That’s twice recently I’ve done so.”

“You didn’t rescue me. I didn’t need rescuing.”

“Of course because you were making so much headway getting out of that dungeon on your own.”

“Please! I think we should probably go...Uther’s men might be right behind us.”

Gwen, ever the voice of reason got them to quit bickering and sort out riding arrangements. Hunith rode behind Gwen and much to Arthur’s disappointment, Merlin mounted behind Morgana. It may have been the most practical arrangement but Arthur still would rather have had the lanky boy curled up around _him_ instead of being snugged up against the bane of the Prince’s existence.

When they rode into Ealdor the next day, all hell had already broken loose. It didn’t stop there and the following days passed in a blur of high emotion and bloody battle. As the dust settled, black smoke rose and Merlin found himself standing before they pyre consuming the body of his closest childhood friend. It hurt, it hurt so terribly. Will had been as dear to him as any brother he could ever have had.

Arthur was subdued but he chastised Merlin regardless. He should have outed his friend as a sorcerer to the Prince. His heart fell even further knowing he’d almost outed _himself_ as a sorcerer before that final battle. How close had he come to losing Arthur? It was clear this was not the time to reveal his abilities to the Prince. He just had to hope such a day would come eventually.

With a heavy heart, he honoured his mother’s wish that he return to Camelot with the others, with Arthur.

“I’ve seen how much he needs you, how much you need _him_. You’re like two sides of the same coin.”

It was strange hearing the Great Dragon’s words fall from his mother’s lips. However, he took it as a sign she was right and he gathered himself for the trip back to Camelot, the trip back to Uther and Arthur and a destiny he needed to put back on track.

________________________________________

“Merlin?”

He’d left camp to gather wood for the fire. Turning toward Arthur with a small armload of sticks, he smiled tentatively at him.

“What happened...you know, when I saw you in...my father’s rooms. I’m...sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Throwing him a quizzical glance, Merlin protested, “You didn’t. Not really.”

“Father said you were black and blue from elbow to shoulder.”

“Ah, that. It looked worse than it was, you know, my pasty skin and all. It didn’t really hurt much.” He shrugged it away.

“Still, I shouldn’t have treated you that way. I was...angry. I took it out on you and I’m sorry.”

“No harm done. I’m just so sorry your Father overreacted so badly. I’ve tried to get him to release you, Arthur but he doesn’t really listen to me. He just sort of treats me like his favorite dog. Cute but not particularly bright.”

When Merlin smiled at the Prince, fully expecting him to share the joke, he was shocked by the anguish he saw painted across those chiseled features. Arthur looked as if someone had ripped his guts out through his throat.

“Arthur? Arthur, what’s wrong?”

But the Prince was stumbling away, one arm wrapped across his abdomen, the other extended in a gesture that clearly said, “keep away” . Confused, Merlin followed in spite of Arthur’s attempts to wave him away. He was still clutching the pile of sticks close to his chest and calling Arthur’s name when the Prince turned and sprinted away.

That’s when Merlin heard a strange sort of squealing noise. Eyes locked on the retreating Prince, he knew the sound wasn’t coming from him. He paused, swung to his left and saw a small, wild sow snuffling in the underbrush. The squeal came again but it wasn’t coming from the pig in front of him. Too late, Merlin whirled around and saw the enraged boar coming for him, head down, huge tusks exposed and ready to tear his flesh. He was coming too fast, the mage had no time to focus his magic before he was sent flying by the testosterone fueled animal. Firewood scattered along with his thoughts and fast as lightning the boar was on him.

Merlin felt his shoulder tear, then teeth were sinking into him higher up, puncturing his neck and savaging the flesh. Sharp hooves were cutting into him as the boar danced back and forth over his prone body, seeking a new target for his rage. Merlin tried to scream but it seemed even his voice had deserted him. It was chomping into the soft flesh of his abdomen where it curved in under his ribs. Those wicked hooves slammed into his ribs and he felt two snap under the thing’s weight. Finally, his voice returned and he managed a pained shout. Several more ribs went and as darkness slid over his vision he could hear the sound of swift boots on dry leaves

  



End file.
